Shot in the Heart
by Astridhe
Summary: As a soldier of House Baenre, Khaless Dryaalis has had many opportunities to be cruel and cold. But now she has found a way to step out of that life and into the graces of the Dark Maiden. Between Shevarash and her own world, however, life is much more complicated than she'd like.
1. Arrow

**Author's Note: **For _skywiseskychan. _

* * *

Moonlight streamed down in silver beams on the small glade in the late-spring woods, coming to fall on silky grass flattened in patterns by dancing feet. A burbling stream that reflected back the light coursed through on one side on its ceaseless rout from the Spine of the World to the sea where it raged at the shores of the Sword Coast. Crickets hummed on every side. The flutes and soft music that had accompanied the music of the natural world—muted, always muted here—had come to an end. Now a small conference was taking place, with Alassëa at its head. The small moon elf was like a statue of smooth alabaster, her dark hair braided and curled around one shoulder to fall down her front. She was dressed in a silk robe at the moment, but that supposed lack of armor was deceptive when the person who seemed vulnerable was actually a powerful cleric. "Something is pulling their attention here. If we want to survive, Khaless, we have to find out whatever it is and take it from here."

Her friend sighed. Even after five years of stealing away to the surface, Khaless Dryaalis was not really prepared to handle elven innocence. The female drow curled a lock of her snow white hair around one dark finger. Unlike the others here, she was still in her armor. The leather was dyed dark to match the night and moved without a sound. A blood red silk mask covered her face below her eyes, mostly concealing her nature. Combined with a deep hood, it allowed her to move through the woods at night with less fear of being detected. "It's not that simple."

And it wasn't, not standing here amidst Eilistraee's devotees. She was the only full-blooded drow in the party, though she had met two others in her lifetime who were more bold on the surface than she was. For the most part, Khaless tried to stay in the caves and tunnels beneath the ground where the sunlight could never touch her. She hadn't dared to stay and see a dawn or come so early she could see dusk, no matter how gently Alassëa coaxed her. She was still drow, after all. And even though Menzoberranzan was weeks beneath, that did not make her feel safe. After all, she was a scout for the city and she still made regular trips into the vicinity of the cave mouth.

Corellon's followers, mostly sun and wood elves, had a temple not far away. It was one of the reasons Alassëa and Rûdhon had chosen this place to meet for the general feeling of safety it engendered. Khaless had always grimaced when they said they felt safe and argued that there was no place safe from the agents of Lloth. They'd taken her paranoia in stride. Rûdhon was being surprisingly quiet at the moment, however. He was an old elf, old enough to be even Khaless's grandfather. His hair had always been silver so it was hard to tell how he'd aged, but worry had etched its lines into his face. "Khaless has a point," he said gently. He and Alassëa had been better to the drowess than she herself thought she deserved, filling roles as both friend and guide. "We cannot rely upon Lloth's followers to ignore us while they chase their prize. But that said, anything we could do to reduce the risk would be beneficial. Someone needs to convince the priests of Corellon to move it."

"I tried speaking to them..." Alassëa said, but it trailed off into a soft sigh. Around them, the others were getting dressed and packing up to return to their homes.

"And they were as obliging as ever, I take it," Khaless muttered darkly.

Alassëa gave her a stern, if gentle, look. "Khaless, how many times have we told you? You cannot move forward into the light if you still cling to your resentment of it."

"Goddess knows I'm trying," the drowess said, combing her fingers through her loose hair. It framed her dark face and seemed to bring out deep, ruby eyes, then fell down to her shoulders. "You're the one who told me that we cannot even tell them I'm here or it would spark a panic."

"Khal, you must admit that you do look intimidating," Rûdhon said, gesturing to her. Patterns of webs were embossed on her armor in smoked adamantine. The clasps were formed to look like spiders grasping the other piece of metal. If you added into that the fact that it was being worn by a masked drow armed to the teeth, it did look rather ominous. "Which reminds me. There's something more important we need to talk about."

"Involving me or ominous drow in general?" Khaless said a little brusquely as she buckled on her belt with its quiver of arrows and long knives. She liked being an archer, hiding in the shadows and moving soundlessly after her quarry. Certainly, the drow as a whole preferred crossbows, but she could shoot much faster and with more accuracy this way with an equal lack of sound. There was no mechanism to have to silence, after all. It did mean she had to craft her own arrows and she made many trips to the surface to collect feathers for fletching, but with her inclinations that was hardly a problem.

"Both," he said before elaborating, smoothing out his own robes. He was a powerful sorcerer, so he was equally dangerous unarmed. Khaless envied them for that. "We believe the elves in the area have become aware of drow activity in the area. They are likely frightened and thus quite hostile. It would be better for you to avoid their patrols if you are going to remain on the surface with us for any period of time. We can always hide you."

Khaless slipped her boot knives back in, one with the head of a serpent for a pommel and the other of a tiger—they were gifts from Alassëa, who'd come by them from far to the south during one of her flights of fancy that took her adventuring. It happened now and again. The last time she'd tried to drag Khaless with her, but the drow had dug in her heels. She didn't like the idea of being on the surface for more than a night. People would miss her in Menzoberranzan if she was gone for too long. "Maybe I'll stay next time," she said, just like she always did. Not once had she stayed.

"We understand," Alassëa said gently, watching her friend compose herself to head back down into the tunnels. "If there's enough of a whisper, however, it might draw one of Shevarash's disciples."

"You say that name as if I should know it by now," Khaless said, picking up her unstrung bow. It had a powerful draw, but was well crafted enough that it didn't make a sound when it was drawn. She ran her thumb over the smooth cherry wood that had never been polished, only oiled to keep the moisture out. It wouldn't reflect a hint of light. The arrows were equally muted, dark shafts and long, tapered bodkin heads of smoked adamantine with grey goose-feather fletchings.

"It's one of the dangers for a drow on the surface. As far as the disciples of the Black Archer are concerned, the only good drow is a dead drow," Rûdhon said. He sensed Khaless's anger even though she didn't voice a word of it or even let it play across her expression. "You have to understand that they were born out of righteous fury after the surface raids. Survivors who had nothing left of their loved ones but tortured bodies. Vengeance is something surely you can understand."

"The hate does run both ways," Khaless said thoughtfully, her anger slowly subsiding. Yes, she understood. She had always thought of elves as so much kinder and more gentle than drow. It was somewhat reassuring to run across things that she found familiar, like revenge and hatred and cruelty. Not pleasant, of course, but they were at least understandable. "They do not extend a protection to the followers of Eilistraee, then?"

"No," the sorcerer said, picking up his staff from where it was lying on the ground.

"What more do we have to do?" she said, frustration clear in her tone. She strung her bow without thinking, almost like she knew there was trouble in her future.

"Khal, you're doing the right thing," Alassëa said, knowing it was time to reassure their drowess. Khaless could be so fragile sometimes. They understood—she was much more comfortable in her shell after a few centuries of drow life where any vulnerability would be exploited viciously and quite possibly lethally. It was nigh impossible for her to put herself out there, and so she tended to be very sensitive when she did. They'd had her growl and bite many a time, but she made a little progress every time. She'd even managed to come to trust two elves, though it had taken thirty years under the ground in the passages near the surface and five more on the surface.

"And what do I have to show for that?" Khal snapped. She regretted it as soon as she'd said it even though she knew they wouldn't hold it against her.

"You have friends," Alassëa reminded her gently. "And you have the peace that comes with knowing the words of the Dark Maiden. I wish there were more than that, but it is what it is."

"That's more than enough. I need to learn to watch my speech," Khaless said. She swept her hair back out of her face. "I need to go if I'm to make it back by morning. Haelra will notice my absence otherwise." She knew they didn't like to hear that there were drow so closed to the surface, but it was true. Her sister, damn her eyes, would hardly approve as a priestess of Lloth.

Rûdhon hugged her gingerly, knowing that the drow still didn't like to be touched much. She was as skittish as an alley cat used to having boots thrown at it. "Eilistraee watch over you. You walk far from the moonlight."

"But well," she assured him, awkwardly hugging him back before dropping her arm when he released her. Her other hand tightened a little on her bow as she took a step back and pulled up her hood. "_Vedaust_, both of you."

They never knew that they would see her again with the dangers of life in the Underdark, but both elves always hoped for the best. Rûdhon sighed a little as he watched her go. "I wish she would trust that we know what we're doing. I had hoped that her paranoia would have faded by now."

Alassëa shook her head. "She lives in that city still, my friend. She can't afford to drop her guard, not even here on the surface. Besides, with disciples of Shevarash in the area, paranoia is warranted. Nor should we drop our guard if there is a drow patrol so close to the surface. Discovery would mean death."

Khaless padded off into the night, melting into the shadows as she moved through the trees. She walked softly on the loam and fallen leaves, footfalls but a whisper of sound. It was here in the silence that she came into her own, whether above or beneath the ground. She was no ranger, but she had long ago become attuned to her environment to move with perfect stealth. It allowed her to strike and vanish with deceptive ease. The shadows were her home even on the surface. It was a mile or so back to the entrance to the Underdark that she'd taken, a cave hidden as a mere narrow crack in some stones that she could barely wedge herself through. It was a secret spot concealed on the other side as well as merely part of a cave-in. She had no illusion that she was the only one who knew it was there, but no drow patrol ever used it. She was always worried that someone might follow her all the same. One could only evade the fangs of the Demon Queen of Spiders for so long.

It was when she'd almost reached the entrance that she felt that chill run down her spine. She was not alone in the woods. Someone was on her trail, and she knew none of the others would have followed her. That spoke of something dangerous, perhaps another one of the company that had brought her so close to the surface. It was rare for one to come alone, but if Haelra had sent them they would be hard pressed to refuse...

Khaless did what few other drow would do. She slung her bow and found a tall, sturdy tree with thick foliage. Then she jumped, caught a low branch with both hands, and swung herself up like an acrobat. She climbed with the ease of someone used to scaling much more difficult rock walls and found a perch where she could see the forest floor. She drew an arrow out of her quiver and quickly treated the end with sleep poison from a small vial in a pouch on her belt along with some other poisons, each carefully put in their place. Then she tucked the vial back and unslung her bow, deftly drawing it back with the arrow nocked. She could hear the footfalls below across the stonier ground here. Occasionally her hunter hit a small pebble and sent it skittering across the rocks.

The figure came into view, a male wood elf with tanned skin and thick brown hair cut short. He was studying the ground, hunting for her tracks, with his own bow drawn. There was a flash of moonlight and her keen eyes caught sight of a symbol on the pauldron of his armor. It a black arrow broken over a teardrop. She didn't like the feeling it gave her. Was this a devotee of Shevarash come to end her life? That was not Corellon's symbol, though she knew the followers of the elven god would surely hunt her too if they came to know she was in the area. She drew the arrow back a little further and anchored it at her jaw, still watching. He hadn't even thought to look up. Khaless knew she could end his life for that slight lapse in his guard, capable of punching right through his armor. That was certainly the wisest course: bury an arrow up to its fletching in his heart and then finish him with her knife if he happened to cling to life for any length of time. In fact, that was her inclination.

She still hated surface elves with the passion of a true drow. She had just learned to make an exception for her friends—their word, not hers, for their relationship—through decades of practice and gentle disassembling of some of her walls. Alassëa called it the beginning of healing. With things like this, however, she tended to doubt the wisdom dispensed by the elves. But it made her hesitate. Was it right to kill this man on the mere suspicion that he was out to kill her? It should have been reason enough, certainly, but she couldn't quite bring herself to loose the arrow. Finally, she made her decision. Khaless lowered her aim and shot. The arrow hissed through the air and just grazed his side. Enough to draw blood and deliver the poison, but not enough to kill. She dropped a globe of darkness on his head, blinding him.

"You missed, drow!" he shouted. She could hear the anger and hate in his voice, recognizing her own demons in another.

"Perhaps you aren't aware of what I was aiming at, _darthiir_," she taunted back anyway before laughing, nocking another arrow. It was funny to hear that growing frustration, more so because he was flailing around. What had he been expecting? A fair fight? Had he even fought drow before? Either way, if he took a shot at her, he would be a dead man. But instead he seemed to be trying to escape from the darkness. By the time the spell flickered out, the poison was overtaking him. She swung down, unafraid. Khaless stalked forward as he drew his sword with fumbling fingers. She was hooded and masked, so there was no danger of being recognized.

The elf dropped to his knees and looked up at her. "Kill me, then," he slurred out.

She pulled her arrow up out of the earth and wiped the dirt from the tip against her thigh. Then she tapped his cheek with it gently. "Maybe next time. Sweet dreams, _darthiir_." With that, she nudged him over with her boot and he fell, unconscious by the time he hit the ground. An elf would find him, hopefully one of the followers of Eilistraee. They knew she was in the area already and wouldn't raise the alarm. Khaless regretted then leaving him alive, but when she looked down at his face, all the hatred gone from his expression now that sleep had smoothed over his features, she couldn't quite correct the mistake. He looked almost handsome in that strange, pale, surface elf way. What was he like around his own kin? What had brought him here, on this path? She crouched down next to his body and unhooked his cloak, rolling it up and gently putting it under his head.

He wore a glimmering silver and emerald ring on one hand, inscribed in elvish. It reminded her of Alassëa's wedding ring. She was curious, but knew better than to touch it or take it. She tended not to loot even corpses for anything other than coin, and even then not on the surface. It would prompt too many questions if she spent too much strange money, gold or not. Khaless slid the arrow back into her quiver and turned, moving carefully to the cave entrance and obliterating any hints of a track behind her.

After that, it was a few hours before she rejoined the patrol she had been a part of, the soldiers all asleep. But Haelra was unfortunately awake along with the two males on watch. "Where have you been?" the priestess demanded, crossing her arms.

Khaless pushed her hood back and shook her white hair free. Then she pulled her mask down to show her face. She had no worries about being seen or recognized and no need to protect her face. The silk was enchanted to protect her from poison, always a threat with Underdark creatures. They were the reason she had so many interesting poisons herself, though she had added many from the surface that were rare in the Night Beneath if even known. "Scouting. Like you told me to."

"And that takes five hours?"

"Be grateful it didn't take six. You said you wanted me to be thorough," Khaless said irritably. If there was one thing she hated more than people trying to kill her, it was her older sister. It hadn't always been that way. Khaless remembered a time where she had almost been fond of the arrogant priestess. Certainly more respectful. That had all changed when she herself changed. Feeling out of place and nauseated by casual violence had never been the problem for Khaless, never the thing that drove her to Eilistraee. She had been as violent as every other drow. It wasn't enjoyable, necessarily, but it was just a part of life. She was a soldier for House Baenre still.

Until the destruction of House Kenafin, she had been a loyal follower of Lloth and never questioned the Spider Queen's mandates. But the things Haelra had made her do, the things she had seen done—there were things worse than simple killing. And she'd been a part of it all. She still woke up with nightmares and that was almost forty years ago. It was something that could never be undone or forgiven. The next step had come out in the Wilds on a long scouting mission.

Ethereal, perfect music wound through the tunnels to her, curling around her heart and tugging her that way. She'd followed it up and up and up, far further than a real singing voice could ever carry, to the surface where the stars and the brilliant moon shone down on her. But it hadn't hurt her eyes then. Instead, she'd spent what felt like hours staring up at the beautiful orb. Then someone—a drow woman with long hair—had tapped her shoulder from behind and vanished into the brush, laughing like silver bells. That was the beginning of her path to Eilistraee.

It was not, she was finding, an easy path to walk. Being with Haelra and the patrol, in the midst of her native world, the casual killing, it was all so comfortable. But the symbols of Lloth seemed to stare at her now, as if they knew. The priestesses were figures to avoid where possible. Even Menzoberranzan, though it would ever be her home, had lost the brilliant luster it once held for her. The ceaseless power games and clawing endlessly for more and more no longer held her interest. And it irritated Haelra to no end, her own power and thus that of the family squarely on her mind. Khaless had been dodging promotion like an expert so she wouldn't lose time out in the field where she could go to the surface. It had lead to many an argument.

"Are you trying to be impudent?" Haelra demanded, hand on her snake whip.

Khaless's smile was humorless. "It depends. Am I succeeding?"

"I should—" her sister started with murder in her eyes.

"Rest," the renegade interrupted. "You should rest. We both should. It's a long road back to Menzoberranzan and neither one of us wants to fall behind. It would look terrible, particularly since I'm on point."

Haelra looked like she was thinking about arguing, but then she gave her sister a curt nod. "This isn't over," the priestess murmured threateningly even as she headed over to her own bedroll. Khaless didn't dignify it with an answer, lying down. Out here, they needed to sleep in their armor with their weapons close at hand. Soon, she would be back in Menzoberranzan and under the cruel eyes of Lloth. But as she closed her eyes, she thought again of the elf in the woods. She had a definite feeling that he would be back.

Above, on the surface, morning had broken. Thalion groaned when someone started shaking him and opened his eyes. Sunlight was streaming down through the green leaves, falling golden on his tan skin. His thoughts sluggishly took inventory of his surroundings, from the slim female moon elf looking down at him to the fact that his cloak was a pillow he didn't remember having to the fact that the drow was gone. Gone! He sat up quickly and felt an unpleasant rush through his head. "The drow, where is she?" he demanded.

"There are no drow in these woods, friend. Please, don't hurt yourself," his apparent rescuer said. There was a tall, old male elf with her, leaning on his staff. "I'm Alassëa and this is Rûdhon."

"Thalion Vanafindon," he greeted. "I was sent here by the priest of Shevarash. There is a drow in these woods. It isn't safe." He gritted his teeth as his memory returned. She'd _laughed_ at him! It made his blood boil. One day, he would make her pay for that. His anger was so great that he missed the worried look that passed between the pair that had discovered him.

"Well, we can help you to a temple of Corellon," Rûdhon offered. "Alassëa and I know these woods quite well."

Thalion nodded and flashed them a smile. "That is appreciated, Rûdhon," he said, getting shakily to his feet. He still felt weak and cursed silently at the monster that had left him like this. The females were supposed to be more powerful and more dangerous, so clearly he had run into a true threat. But what nagged at him was why he was still breathing. Surely she had the opportunity to finish him off. Why hadn't she? Perhaps it was because she found it more amusing to let him live. Or maybe she wanted him to know that she'd escaped and enjoy the impotent rage that he felt in his veins.

"Come on," Alassëa said, steadying him. "You can lean on me a little until your strength in your legs comes back."

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"We come from a religious rite," Rûdhon explained as they walked towards Corellon's temple and the nearby elven village hidden in the forest. It was better to leave things vague considering the mixed feelings of Shevarash towards Eilistraee. The god of vengeance, as they had told Khaless, did not discriminate. It made things awkward for the elven and half-elven followers of Eilistraee.

"So you say your drow escaped?" Alassëa said, hopeful that their friend was unharmed.

"I could not even get a blow in," Thalion admitted reluctantly. "It was a cowardly ambush, but a skillful one. And the arrow was poisoned."

"You are fortunate, then, that it was not a lethal one," the priestess of Eilistraee said. She made a mental note to praise Khaless on her unusual restraint. Normally the drow would have probably shot him somewhere painful and left him to spend the night screaming. "If she is gone, there is nothing to fear."

Thalion looked at her like she was an idiot. "There may be more!" he hissed, wobbling a little. His steps were becoming steadily stronger, but they were far from perfect right now. He cursed mentally again. "Corellon's priests need to know. If there is a surface raid coming..."

"One drow does not a surface raid make," Rûdhon pointed out.

"But one drow does make a spy," Thalion countered. His mind was made up now and both of the moon elves sensed there was nothing they could do to make him change his mind. But what could they do besides show him to Corellon and make his own decision. They would just have to warn Khaless somehow.

Their drow friend was not going to like this.


	2. A Song of Spiders

The City of Spiders was as beautiful as it had been when Khaless left, an enchanting jewel in the midst of the rough that was the Underdark. Glittering lights waited to meet them through the massive city gates. Crowds would have pressed against them if they weren't soldiers, here a mix of races whereas their destination up at the highest tier of the city, Qu'ellarz'orl was almost exclusively drow. But a runner met them on the way, panting as he came to a stop in front of the two females. "Revered Haelra!" he got out between pants.

"What is it?" the priestess snapped irritably.

"Quenthel is Matron Mother," he said, still breathless.

Haelra did an admirable impression of a fish before looking over at Khaless, who didn't seem surprised at all. If she was, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. "Well that's...does the city know?"

"She made it very apparent," the messenger said.

Khaless just shrugged. It would rock the boat of the city's peace a little, but not enough to sink it by a long shot. It was the nature of the drow to seize power where they could. Quenthel would be a stronger Matron in many ways than Triel. If anything, it was of benefit to the House. What she knew for certain was that it would change likely without even noticing them. Sometimes it was good to be a peon. She adjusted her bow on her back and checked her satchel of equipment. "That's nice."

"Is that all you have to say?" Haelra said, waving the messenger away. She was irritated by her sister's lack of interest, but on the other hand, the calm and disinterested manner seemed to be good for their soldiers, who fidgeted much less with that little comment from their de facto commander. Haelra was ostensibly in charge, but she wasn't a soldier. They tended to look to their own when things were in trouble and Khaless was their sergeant.

"Yes," Khaless said. She turned back to the rest of the patrol and flashed a smile. "Good work, everyone. Smooth as silk and that's the way I like it. Back to the barracks for some hot food."

There was a chorus of assent and the party moved onward without a word of complaint to the heights of the city and House Baenre's complex. Once she'd split off from the others and sent them on their way to go eat and get some sleep in actual beds out of their armor, Khaless headed to the baths with Haelra on her heels. "This could mean a whole shift in favor within the House. In power too. It's an opportunity," Haelra said as they entered the baths. They were empty at this strange hour, Narbondel barely beginning its ascent.

"So take it, sister," Khaless said. She was tired, fumbling a little as she stripped off her armor. "I honestly don't care at all."

"That's the problem with you," Haelra snapped. "You never care about advancing. You're happy just being a simple scout cavorting about in the Underdark never amounting to anything. Mother would be ashamed if she saw you today. You used to be so ambitious."

"I've seen what comes of ambition," Khaless said, undoing the final buckle. She was quick to strip off her armor and clothing and sink into the hot water of the bath. Goddess did it feel good as the heat seeped into her aching muscles. "I like my head attached to my body, my food free of poison. I'm a soldier, Haelra. That's all."

"You could at least aim for being a captain. Having power over the troops as a real commander," Haelra said, joining her sister in the baths. "You'd be good at it. You know how to keep morale up, how to plan battles. And if the Matron Mother caught sight of you doing well, it might elevate the whole family."

"Elevate you, more particularly," Khaless said. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, just soaking for a little while before picking up a bar of soap. "I'm not your ticket to greatness, Haelra. You'll have to use your own merits for that. I have all the power I need. How many conversations do you think happen in front of a rank-and-file soldier? Secrets have ways of winding out into listening ears. Every soldier, every guard, every nameless face to a noble knows that."

"So that's how you always know what's going on with the clergy," Haelra said, a faint smile creeping across her narrow face. "I think I might have a use for your encyclopedic knowledge."

Khaless didn't mention that her attention to every minute detail regarding the priestesses of Lloth had nothing to do with power-seeking and everything to do with not getting caught. "No," she said, shooting her sister a hard look. "You think people won't wonder where your new knowledge came from? If you want to know, just do what I do. Listen, move unseen, and keep your mouth shut."

"I can't move like you do," Haelra said. For all her arguments with her sister, she would be the first to admit that Khaless was queen of the shadows. The rogue had few equals when it came to moving through the darkness of even House Baenre's corridors and many secret passageways. Once, when they were only girls, Khaless had showed her the entrance to one such hidden hall, a narrow and dark space that lead off into the bowels of the House. She was sure that the scout now had the whole network memorized. "You know that."

Her younger sister smiled. "You do make a lot of noise, don't you?"

Haelra splashed her with water. "Sneak-thief."

"Very mature," Khaless said with a roll of her eyes before ducking under the surface of the water with the soap. She scrubbed until it felt like her skin was going to come off. It was so good to be home, as much as she enjoyed her time in the world above. There was something special about the light of the moon and thousands upon thousands of stars glimmering above in the veil of night. Soon she'd have the opportunity to go up again. But first there was training to do and equipment to maintain and soldiers to work with.

After her bath, Khaless parted ways with her sister and headed home. For her, that was private quarters in the barracks with a living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom. There were advantages to being a little above the average rank and file. If she'd had a family, she would have moved out of the House and found a place in the city, but there was no real chance for her to have children in the near future. For one, she wasn't certain she wanted to raise children in Menzoberranzan. Not that she could imagine living anywhere else. She'd heard stories about drow that didn't fit beneath the ground, particularly followers of Eilistraee even though such a thing was rare, running away up to the surface. But that was not the life for her. Too much of the surface would forever hate her for what she was, no matter how friendly Alassëa and Rûdhon and the others in their small group were. Besides, was it right to abandon others who shared her same inclination?

She'd hidden followers of Eilistraee being chased once or twice, using those secret passages that she knew of to move them through House Baenre and out of the city via the old siege tunnels without detection. It had been a nerve-wrecking experience, but one she was grateful she'd accomplished and survived. So far in her life she'd managed to avoid detection, maybe because she hadn't been at it that long. She sat down on the floor with her back against an armchair and laid her armor out. It was time to carefully clean and oil each piece so it remained functional and even more importantly, silent.

Just as she'd finished, there was a knock at her door. Khaless jumped up and answered it. On the other side was a young soldier she didn't recognize, probably here as a messenger. "Honored Khaless, you're wanted at the training grounds," he said, confirming her suspicions. She raised an eyebrow slightly but then nodded.

She donned her armor quickly and buckled on her weapons, snatching up her bow and slinging it across her back. It was easy for her to move through city streets unremarked, winding her way through alleys like a wraith. Her lips pressed into a narrow line as she neared Menzoberranzan's training grounds, used primarily by the different Academies for their students. The terrain could be magically reshaped as needed, forming a dangerous mix of tunnel and cavern all too frequently loaded with dangers. Khaless could see a formation with Andzrel Baenre at its head—if the Weapons Master was there, it was probably no ordinary training exercise.

"Honored Khaless, good of you to join us," her captain sneered as she fell in with the rest of her unit. The Weapons Master was watching almost lazily, eyes flickering over the assembled group. "Pick ten men and prepare to enter the caverns. You are the enemy force in this training exercise."

Khaless could have cursed aloud at Chaszmyr in that moment, but she refrained not out of respect, but out of caution. He could make her life very unpleasant if he wanted to. "Understood, Captain," she said even though she knew she would be facing a force three times her size. Khaless went through, picking out ten men she knew could be relied upon. They all looked nervous. This would be survivable, but the beating would be a serious one if they failed. Their mage looked particularly worried. "Are we to head into the grounds, then?"

"Go. You have an hour."

The rogue nodded and hurried her men into the mock wilderness. "We need a plan," one of them said, drawing even with her as they jogged into the maze-like depths. Ghaundar was a good soldier, older than her and grizzled from the many conflicts he was a veteran of. "They outnumber us by so many that we cannot hope to stand and fight them."

"I know," Khaless said, the wheels in her brain nearly spinning with how fast they were going. "So we're not going to."

"Hit and run?" Ghaundar said knowingly. He'd been around Khaless so much that it was easy for him to figure out what she was thinking. And it was really the only tactic that would work with this size comparison.

"We should split off into pairs. We can do more damage that way. They won't be prepared to chase down that few. We can lead them all over the place," Khaless said, loudly enough for the others to hear her. None of them made much noise when they ran, so that was fairly easy. "Pair off. We'll attack from the shadows and then move. Never stop moving. Ranged weapons unless they close on you. We meet up back at the central cavern as we go. Don't leave your partner behind." There were nods all around. It wasn't the best plan ever created, but it was the only one that would do for them now against these odds.

All of them were armed with blunted weapons, even blunted bolts and in Khaless's case, arrows. The trick was in the enchantments on them, which could paralyze a limb with a good hit and completely immobilize the person if it was a killing blow. She'd made certain to grab her training quiver rather than the lethal ones. Everyone split up, leaving her with Ghaundar. "Up?" she said with a smile.

He chuckled a little and started scaling the wall up to a high ledge shrouded in darkness. Khaless shot up the wall like a spider, barely even noticing the fact that she was climbing. He swore it was as fast as her simply strolling up the side of the wall. "Quick, aren't you?" he said.

"I try to be," she said, stringing her bow. It was still a powerful weapon—the soldier to get hit with it should have been hoping it would strike him in an armored area. The wood didn't make a sound as it bent, accepting the pull of the waxed bowstring without complaint. Khaless could feel the beginning of adrenaline starting to seep out into her veins. In exercises like this, it started to feel like a real battle. That was the whole point. "Ready when you are."

Ghaundar loaded his crossbow and gave her a crooked grin. "Let's make some trouble," he said as the sounds of approach came from the magically crafted tunnel.

Khaless waited until the first scouts had moved past them to suddenly loose a flurry of arrows into the midst of the party, causing one hell of a chaos. Ghaundar was a little slower but just as dangerous and neither had to aim hard since they were firing into a crowd. Between every shot, Khaless ducked and weaved on the ledges that ran around the edge of the cavern and even over it on narrow bridges of stone. Her partner was doing the same, giving everyone below them one hell of a headache.

"Bring the archers down!" Chaszmyr shouted below, deflecting an arrow with his shield. They were distinctive enough that he knew exactly who was up there. The perpetual thorn in his side was proving to be particularly irritating at the moment. The Weapons Master was watching, after all. He couldn't afford to lose this fight and that meant getting rid of the damnable woman. His men had been expecting a melee attack, so they had to fumble to get weapons out.

Crossbow bolts hit them from both sides, the other groups in action, but when the soldiers turned to get them they had vanished down the narrow passages. Chaszmyr was ordering his men to give chase. Khaless flashed Ghaundar a quick smile. "They've split. Now we can pick them off a little more easily from a distance. Fall back towards the center cavern."

He nodded his assent and shot a parting bolt at the group before dropping from the ledge away from the scrambling mass of soldiers below and sprinting towards another tunnel entrance. Khaless covered his escape and then made her own, almost disappearing into the shadows and creeping away. She wedged herself into a crevice when she heard them coming on her heels. They passed so close by her that she could hear them breathe over the soft whispering sounds of their armor. Chaszmyr stopped next to her, nearer than an arm's reach. "Find Khaless," he ordered his lieutenant. "I want her brought down. Her men aren't going to fight if she's gone and she's the schemer out of the bunch."

The drowess held her breath when she heard that, knowing she was mere inches away from detection. She didn't dare move. But, sensing nothing, they moved on past her. She climbed out and trailed after them, boots silent against the rough stone floor. Finally things opened up a bit and she found another perch up above and behind them. Ghaundar was at the other side of the cavern firing into them. Ever so slowly, she eased an arrow out of her quiver and shifted to find a clear line of sight to Chaszmyr. She thought of all his needling comments, all his casual arrogance, all the dangerous and unpleasant patrols he'd sent her on. Then she drew the string back and released it with a smooth motion. The shaft hissed through the air and nailed the captain in the back of the head, sending him over forward as his whole body went limp. Even blunted and enchanted, it had dented his helmet. It was hard for Khaless to not look satisfied.

The effect was almost immediate, a sudden discord in the ranks. Khaless could see her men reassembling together at the center of the cavern on high ground. They had been forced to abandon the high ledges by the pressure of fire from their rivals. She leaped to one wall with acrobatic ease, landing on another ledge that linked up with Ghaundar's position near the others. They were headed to the most dangerous part of the battle as things closed for a melee battle. The odds were more balanced now.

Khaless slipped her fingers into a pouch and found a few ceramic beads with blind touch. She flashed a sign to her companions in faerie fire up above the heads of their enemy where it wouldn't be noticed, warning them to close their eyes. Then she hurled the unassuming beads down into the midst of Chaszmyr's force. They exploded with blinding, dazzling magical daylight. The cries that rose up were agonized. It was a perfect opportunity for her team to strike back. It was much easier to fight an enemy that couldn't see to retaliate. Khaless maintained her position, sniping from above.

A plan coming together seamlessly was always a beautiful sight. She smiled a little as the last few dropped their weapons in surrender and carefully unstrung her bow. She slung it across her back again before dropping down. They'd lost about half their own number, but that was better than Chaszmyr and his men. "I think that went rather well," she commented to Ghaundar as the paralysis started to wear off on the downed drow. Their surroundings morphed and then dropped, replaced by flat rough stone left open like a plain. Figures were approaching, including the Weapons Master. "Though the Captain isn't going to be happy."

"He never is," Ghaundar muttered. "Guess who's going to get patrols near the surface again."

Khaless shrugged indifferently, hiding her inner enthusiasm for the idea. It was supposed to be a punishment, and she bitched about it constantly to reinforce the idea, but Chaszmyr was really doing her a favor. It meant she had a chance to go up and enjoy the moonlight. Sometimes she could even meet with other followers of Eilistraee for an actual rite. "I know, I know."

The glare that the captain gave her with his red eyes was clearly meant to intimidate her into cowering in submission, but it didn't work. Probably because he was still picking himself up from the ground where he'd been lying on his face courtesy of her. That had been quite satisfying. Before he could say anything to her, however, the Weapons Master had arrived. "Congratulations, enemy forces. That was a smooth victory," Andzrel Baenre said, studying them. The haughty features of House Baenre were familiar in his face, but for some reason they sparked her memory of the elf on the surface. His features had been chiseled too, but they seemed so much softer. At least, when he was unconscious.

Andzrel's eyes on her were unsettling. She knew that kind of look. It was not the sort of attraction that would make for a happy experience. What people sometimes misunderstood was the question of status. A female noble from any House, no matter how small, would rank above Andzrel because they were female. But a commoner was far less powerful than he was and he knew it. That was how powerful males could dominate a female and get away with it—force and fear of reprisal. Menzoberranzan did not have laws. It had _a_ law: the people with power make the law. Andzrel had nothing to fear from her except her personal vengeance, which would be nigh impossible with his protections. And so she made a mental note to take as many patrols out from the city as possible.

"You—" Chaszmyr started, nearly trembling with rage as he glared at Khaless.

"Won," Andzrel cut in, effectively silencing the captain. "I'm impressed, archer. What's your name?"

"Khaless Dryaalis, Weapons Master," the rogue said, giving him a bow. He was a noble and that meant moving very carefully around him. The last thing she wanted was for him to take offense. That would put her in a real world of hurt, particularly now that he knew her name.

Andzrel smiled faintly. "I'll leave you to your regular training. Captain, I hope you won't let such a victory go unrewarded," he said almost casually. But beneath it was an undercurrent of warning.

Chaszmyr bowed. "Of course not, Weapons Master." And it would be rewarded, by those patrols near to the surface, even if they were supposed to be punishment.

When the Weapons Master left, Khaless let out the breath she'd been holding. She turned to Chaszmyr. "Captain?"

"I think you know where your next patrol assignment is," the male drow said viciously before stalking off in a particularly black mood. Anyone who ran afoul of him would be in for an unpleasant few hours of punishment.

"Well, aside from your punishment, you did quite well," Ghaundar said, approaching her now that she wasn't the focus of everyone's attention. Sometimes it was better to not be near the epicenter of the explosion. "Not many earn the approval of the Weapons Master. You may find yourself a captain soon, directly under his command rather than Chaszmyr's."

Khaless felt a shiver of dread run down her spine. "I hope not," she muttered. For one, then she'd be leading patrols. And secondly, she didn't want to be that close that often to Andzrel Baenre. Those would be encounters that would end poorly for her and she knew it better than anyone. She didn't want his attention or his approval. She liked skating by with no one paying her any mind so she could do as she pleased without having to answer to anyone.

* * *

"You know about the drow!" Thalion said accusingly, squaring off with Alassëa. His eyes practically glowed with anger like a coal. Rûdhon had gone on his way, but the priestess of Eilistraee lived in the village of elves near the temple of Corellon. That left her in the company of their avenger of Shevarash.

"She is a follower of Eilistraee. She has a good heart," Alassëa said evenly, holding her hands out as if to forestall any violent action from him. "You have to understand that some of them wish to leave the darkness behind. If you try to kill her, you only push her back towards Lloth's embrace."

"Do not speak to me of a good-hearted drow," he said. It almost struck Alassëa as funny that he was so like their drow in his temper. "You have been snared in lies and honeyed words. That is the spell that they weave upon those who would try to redeem them. I saw her armor and its patterns of spiders, heard her laugh at my defeat."

"What is on the outside is no indication of what is on the inside, Thalion," the cleric said. She sighed, lowering her hands as he subsided from a furious rage to merely seething. "Give her an opportunity to prove her good intentions before you try to cut her down again. I know that's why she shot you. You did not follow her into those woods to make her acquaintance in a genteel fashion."

"Caranion needs to know of this so there can be a proper defense if you are wrong. How could you have been so naïve?"

Someone cleared their throat from off to the side. "Caranion needs to know what?" They both turned to see the sun elf in question standing there, his bronze skin almost glowing in the sun and his blond hair left to grow long. He wore the robes of a high priest of Corellon. "Alassëa, you are not someone often accused of recklessness. What has happened?"

"She is sheltering a drow!" Thalion spat. He was no fan of the drow by any stretch of the imagination. Not with all he had lost at their hands. The fact that an elf was allowing one to survive, even thrive, was an anathema to him. Shevarash would have his vengeance through him, the wood elf vowed.

Caranion looked taken aback, but then again, as far as he knew she was a devoted follower of Corellon. She kept her affiliation very quiet to avoid the discomfort around others that sometimes came with following a drow goddess, even a good one. "A serious accusation. Is it true? And do not lie, child, or you will put all of us in a grave danger," he said cautiously. It was as if he was feeling out the waters carefully before jumping in to a conclusion.

Alassëa worried at her lower lip for a moment. What consequences would there be for Khaless if she told the truth? Rûdhon would have known what to say, what to do. "I have spoken to a drow once in the nearby woods, and only once. She was a follower of Eilistraee and no threat to any of us. She will not return." It was a lie, but one close enough to the truth that she knew it would pass undetected. Maybe he would believe her. Caranion had always trusted her word and her judgment before.

The priest of Corellon did not look happy as his brow furrowed. "What proof do you have of this? The drow are known for their deceptions and machinations, Alassëa."

She seriously considered handing over her holy symbol and claiming it had come from Khaless, but she knew they would say that the drow could have attained it anywhere. "My word," she said fiercely, trying to protect her friend. "Surely that is worth something, Caranion. I would stake my life on it."

The sun elf sighed and then said gently, "In the absence of proof, I must assume this drow is a threat. You must remember that it was not so long ago in our memory that we had drow attacking the temple itself and stealing the blade devoted to the purity of Corellon's faith. We are near an entrance of the Underdark. This drow woman you ran into was likely a scout for another surface raid."

Alassëa was desperate now even as Thalion looked on with a quiet satisfaction that someone was listening to him. "If you do harm to her, it will only reinforce everything she has been taught about elves," she said, clinging to that point. She knew it was true. Nothing would make Khaless feel more betrayed than capture with Alassëa forced to simply watch. Besides, she was a priestess of Eilistraee. She had a duty to protect her fellow faithful. "You have nothing to fear from her."

"If what she said was true and she does not return, then you are right," Caranion said firmly. "If she returns, however, we will know it was a lie. I do not intend to kill her without knowing her true intention in the area, Alassëa. I am not a cruel man."

"And captivity is better? The drow torture their prisoners. What do you think she will expect of us?"

Thalion's hazel eyes narrowed. "For only having spoken to her once, Alassëa, you are quite passionate in advocating for her," he said. It was just short of an accusation, but the insinuation was enough to draw Caranion's attention to the matter.

The sun elf nodded slightly, taking this into consideration. But he did not suspect in any way that Alassëa would actually shelter a drow. Meet with one foolishly, perhaps. She was into her second century, but still prone to the flights of fancy of a child. It was not hard to believe she could be manipulated by a drow. They were practiced in the art of lying, particularly after centuries. This was a serious threat and one that needed the utmost caution. "Thalion is right, Alassëa. Your heart is too gentle and trusting," Caranion said finally. "I will have to insist that you stay within the village walls until the matter is resolved. Thalion, I expect you to take charge of watching for this drow. If she returns, she must not be able to complete whatever mission she has been sent on by Lloth's priestesses."

"No!" Alassëa cried, but Caranion just looked at her with sorrowful eyes.

"I am sorry, child, but this is for your own protection," he said gently.

She silently cursed Thalion for divining the truth from the things she had foolishly let slip. The secret unguarded left Khaless at risk of losing her life and if she was confined to the village, there would be no way to leave a message for their drow friend. There was little she could do and she hated it. The best she could do was pray to Eilistraee in the hopes that Khaless was cunning enough to evade any possible ambush or snare they set for her. She could also speak to Rûdhon if he returned in time to use him as a messenger. The last thing they needed was to break the drow's trust, particularly after they had spent so long cultivating it. What if it drove her back into the depths forever? What if she came to expect the same treachery of surface elves that she knew was in her kin?


	3. Soft Touch

_Khaless climbed over the rocks, hands bleeding from scrapes from the stone. She didn't care. When one in particular damaged her flesh, she tore it out of the ground and hurled it off into the darkness. Her normal agility had deserted her through simple exhaustion and she didn't particularly care. She slid down the other side of the subterranean ridge and plunged into icy water that pulled her along in a torrent. It took all her remaining strength to keep afloat but it could only last so long. After a few minutes, she sank below the surface and water rushed into her straining lungs. Slowly but not too slowly, the world went dark in the roiling of the current._

_She awoke lying by a small fire in a cavern with the river running through its center, resting beneath the glow of a mushroom forest alight with different colors. Blues into greens, reds into yellows, the colors shifted faintly as the temperature and time in the area changed. Someone had wrapped a thick woolen blanket around her and set her down on a bedroll so the rock wasn't pressing into her hip without any padding. Her chest and head still ached, but she was alive and seemed to be fine even as the chill faded._

_Across the fire from her, in a white robe, sat a drow woman with long, long silvery hair. Khaless felt oddly exposed under the watchful gaze of those smiling silver eyes. She was still dressed, but dry and feeling strangely peaceful. When she looked down at her hands and arms, she saw that they'd been bandaged. Her armor had been neatly laid out to one side. "Who are you?" Khaless demanded, sitting up. Perhaps she was under some enchantment and that was why this feeling of wellbeing filled her heart and soul. Never had she felt so at peace. It had to be a trick or a trap. Goddess knew the drow knew how to set those better than anyone._

_"A friend," her rescuer said in a musical voice. Even at an even tone, it seemed to suggest rhythm and a haunting melody that prickled at the skin at the base of her neck. It sounded beautiful. It was something that the rogue instinctively knew she could never grow tired of hearing. It spoke to her of the glimmering starlight and the glow of the moon. "No need to reach for your weapon, Khaless."_

_It didn't seem strange to her that the woman knew her name. She let her hand fall away from her knife. She hadn't even realized she was reaching for it until her rescuer pointed it out. Instinct was a powerful force indeed and above all other things the soldier of House Baenre was a survivor...whether or not that meant she was slicing someone's throat open to achieve it. But who was this stranger? It was better, she realized, that she know as little about her mysterious rescuer as possible. In the absence of contrary fact, she was inclined to believe that this was indeed the person who had fished her out of the freezing cold water. "I knew the river was there," Khaless said quietly. "You should have let me drown in it."_

_"Because of House Kenafin?" the woman said. It was not a harsh and accusing tone, but it was one that suggested she knew everything about what had happened. Perhaps she had been there. It wasn't beyond the bounds of possibility. But if she was from House Kenafin, this woman had every right to hate anything wearing the Baenre glyph. She didn't look like she belonged with Khaless's House either. And not the Church, not possibly. This stranger seemed too...soft._

_"Yes," the rogue admitted, looking down at her bandaged hands. "I did the unforgivable. And for what? The Spider Bitch's satisfaction?"_

_"Hush," the silver-haired drow said gently, reaching out. Khaless felt the unfamiliar warmth of another's hands around her own. It was oddly comforting despite its strangeness. It was as if something was grounding her to reality rather than her memories of what had happened. "There is nothing unforgivable about what you did. There is a way to atone, but you must release your anger towards Lloth or it will be the death of you."_

_"And what am I to do? Who are you to offer me atonement?" the scout said angrily, pulling away. She hated the fact that it felt so peaceful here. So safe. It didn't seem like the kind of place she belonged._

_"I told you. I am a friend," she said gently. "All you have to do, Khaless, is open your heart. To me, to others, to yourself. You have ignored it for too long and that neglect has allowed hatred and all its fellows take root. Do not keep punishing yourself. You cannot rub salt in a wound and expect it to heal. You have better work to do. It will not erase the stain, but it will give you a second chance."_

_Khaless looked at her rescuer with confusion that overrode her bitterness. "What do you mean, open my heart?" she said._

_The woman dropped a silver symbol of Eilistraee into her palm. It gleamed and glowed in the firelight, somehow alive with the flickering of the flames. She could almost feel it looking at her too, as if intensifying the woman's gaze somehow. It was a dangerous thing to even touch, let alone possess. Haelra made it sound like the faith of the Dark Maiden was some mind-weakening disease that could be caught by contact or even breathing the same air. Something fatal and certainly undesirable. But here was her host, not only in possession of the thing but giving it away willingly. Was she one of Eilistraee's secret worshippers?_

_Her rescuer smiled at her gently. "You will learn, with time."_

_"And become a heretic, an apostate? Weak?" Khaless said, looking down at the figure of a dancing woman with a sword over her head. She brushed her thumb over the holy symbol, unsure of what to do now. It had a strange appeal, the idea of freedom to live without Lloth. Really, she would always be under the eyes of the Spider Queen. But maybe there was another way. Some kind of relief in chasing something other than her House's power. She had seen what depths the Demon Queen of Spiders took people. And she'd been part of it. Lines that long had been graven in stone with her were crossed as easily as the sea wiped out a mark in the sand. It had been a seamless transformation and a terrifying one._

_"Mercy, compassion, forgiveness, these are not weaknesses, Khaless. They are the spring of a different kind of strength," her rescuer said, softly closing the rogue's hand around the symbol. It left Khaless looking at her own closed hand. "Consider it." Then she let go of the drowess and shifted back slightly._

_"I don't know how!" she said desperately, looking up. But she was alone. Her rescuer had vanished without any sign that she had ever existed save for the silver symbol sitting on Khaless's palm..._

* * *

Khaless woke up with a start when she heard something moving around at the edge of her camp. It was strange to dream again of how her journey had begun. Normally whenever she revisited it, it meant something was going to change. For good or ill, it didn't matter. But now was not the time for such thoughts. She grabbed her bow instinctively and leaped to her feet like a cat. "Don't move!" she snapped, seeing the small figure trying to move quietly away. With her supplies, she noted even as she drew her bowstring back with liquid smoothness, arrow ready to be launched. "I will drop you where you stand."

It froze immediately and then slowly turned around. She saw a pale, bald male svirfneblin emerge from the shadows. He looked gaunt with hunger. Clearly he had been desperate or possibly deranged to steal from a drow. Particularly one who slept as lightly as Khaless did out in the tunnels on her own. This was her favorite kind of mission—if the most dangerous—which happened to be mapping new areas for Menzoberranzan, particularly openings to the surface. To her this territory was not new, but it had never been committed to paper.

Strange, to see a deep gnome so close to the surface. But then again, they had no enmity with the surface form of their kind. Mercy. That was what her apparition had said to her. Sometimes she wondered if that had been the Dark Maiden herself, but she doubted it. Likely it was the after effects of nearly drowning and she had just found the holy symbol in her delirium. Or maybe a priestess of Eilistraee had really found her and left it, but she'd imagined the conversation. If the svirfneblin continued to miss its meals, it would die of hunger out here in the dark. All alone and forgotten. Khaless hesitated again, just as she had on the surface. Perhaps she would be doing it a favor if she shot it. But those eyes were looking at her with such agonizing fear and hopelessness.

_Mercy_.

"Take it and go," she snapped, already regretting her decision as he ran off with her food and water. She let her arm slacken and then tucked the arrow back in her quiver. Now what was she going to do? It was the second time in the past month that she'd made the mistake of sparing something that she should have killed. Now was she going to start sparing the deer on the surface when they looked at her with innocent eyes? Khaless muttered a few obscenities and kicked at a loose stone until she felt a little better. With those supplies, he could probably make it to Blingdenstone and to the miserable little others of his kind. She spat into the dust and then sighed. "What a waste."

What did it even mean to have compassion? What was compassion? She still didn't understand it or the occasional floods of emotion that moved her to spare lives instead of take them. Sometimes it was simply because she was bored. Sometimes, though, she felt that undefinable something worm its way into her chest and she still hated it for taking away her control. But it was part of what she was learning from Eilistraee and her faithful. Certainly, since she'd met Alassëa and Rûdhon, she'd begun behaving differently.

She still wasn't sure who had been more of an idiot in that particular first meeting: them for venturing beneath the ground or herself for sparing them. Sometimes she still wondered if she was touched in the head to call herself an ally of a surface elf. The word 'friend' still didn't make much sense to her. An alliance she understood. Mutual goals with compatible methods. It was that simple. There was no need for emotional attachment or interference, just calculating business. And when an alliance was no longer beneficial to one or more parties, it fell by the wayside to be replaced by betrayal and strife. She had seen it throughout her entire life and certainly been party to more than one sudden reversal of alignments. The bonds of the drow were constantly shifting and fragile in their nature, ever broken by greed or personal ambition. But she was finding she liked the emotion attached to being someone's friend. Alassëa and Rûdhon always treated her with such warmth.

Khaless rolled up her bed, knowing her sleep was over now that she'd been awoken. She tucked it into her satchel and slung it over one shoulder before picking up her bow. She needed to move on to the surface again if she was going to meet them again and there was no reason now to stay. Besides, there was also the matter of food and water. She could replenish those on the surface, albeit with someone's help, and not so easily here below ground. She was less than half a day from her little hidden entrance to the world above. So she walked on and ignored the slight protesting twinge of her stomach.

It was several hours before she made it to the opening. The last rays of sunset were vanishing at the horizon and the stars had come out in the dusk's deep blue skies. Indigo was creeping in from the east to wreathe the world in night. It was, in a word, enchanting. This was as close to the day and the sun as she ever came. Perhaps one day she would stand in that blinding light and let it burn the Underdark from her ebony skin, but that was not today. Instead, she inhaled the spring air deeply and listened to the hoot of owls and trilling symphony of the nightingales. Pleasant chills ran down her spine at their dulcet tones.

That was one thing that had frightened her at first about the surface. It was so...loud. The world was vibrant and full of life's songs where the Underdark had been barren and harsh, permitting only the most tenacious and often terrifying forms of life. Hook horrors, drow, duergar, oozes, ettercaps, and so many other strange creatures made their home in the tunnels beneath her feet.

And she was not alone. She became aware of that almost as soon as she stopped, hearing a twig snap. It might have been an animal just moving about, but she didn't know and so she pressed herself back into the crevice in the stone, listening intently. Eventually, she could see them through the trees. Elves, and not a few of them. There were many moving in the woods, armed and armored.

She knew she shouldn't have spared the bastard. Khaless cursed herself and her supposed mercy roundly. At this rate, she was going to kill herself instead of her enemies. Suicide by stupidity. But Alassëa would have been proud of her.

Speaking of Alassëa, how was she going to meet with the priestess of Eilistraee and the others with this kind of company? She was stealthy, yes, but she doubted her ability to remain hidden with so many roving patrols. And even if she made it there, could she make it back? Rûdhon had some influence, but not enough to save her neck if she were to be discovered. She cursed in her mind again, unwilling to make a shadow of a sound in this miserable situation. Somehow, she had to traverse a mile of woodland without getting caught. And the trees probably weren't going to do the trick again. At least one of them would have the sense to just look up. And it made noise and movement up above. She wasn't a squirrel, whatever those were. Alassëa had explained they were tree-dwelling little furry creatures who occasionally pelted people with nut shells. Khaless could sympathize now that she was looking at a giant mess.

Her eyes were drawn to a tall male sun elf wearing fine looking robes that bore the symbol of Corellon. Her fingers itched and her hand moved towards her bow very, very slowly and carefully without her knowledge or consent. All she could see for a moment was red. That was the enemy and he had to die. Then she took a deep breath and let it out as quietly as possible. He was an enemy of the drow, but not _her_ enemy. That meant there was no need to kill him. Rûdhon was teaching her much about restraint and if she shot the man in the throat, not only would she be in a world of hurt, but she'd have disappointed him as well.

Khaless had to strain her ears to hear, but she could pick up voices. At the same time, she was pulling up her hood. "...Thalion said it was around here somewhere," the sun elf was saying, face stern. "There was a cave in the area, but I thought we'd demolished it after the last surface raid by the drow. If Alassëa really did encounter a drow..."

She lost the thread, too busy being startled. Had her friend told the elves about her? That didn't sound like the priestess of Eilistraee. Alassëa knew what the consequences would be if a drow was discovered this close to an elven village. Perhaps it had been wrung from her by other, more suspicious elves. The drowess prayed silently to the Dark Maiden that her friend was safe now from whatever horrific tortures the elves had been willing to visit on her for that information. Khaless eased her way out of the crevice and started climbing the stones above it to the trees that covered the rise hiding the entrance. She made her way up to the base of a particularly gnarled oak, taking shelter beneath its leaves. From there, it was easy to creep in the opposite direction of the elves.

She made it probably a quarter mile before someone dropped out of the trees behind her. "Remember me?" Thalion said quietly, drawing his arrow back. The drow turned around slowly, hands down at her sides where she could still grab a knife if she really needed to.

"Vaguely," she said in accented elvish. He looked taken aback.

"How is it you speak our tongue?" he demanded.

"I learned it from a book," Khaless said pleasantly, as if he wasn't going to kill her. She was slowly but surely beginning to distract him. "And a tutor." And it was true. Rûdhon had been more patient than anyone had a right to be with such an easily frustrated student. But it had been a fair exchange, because she taught him the language of the drow. Alassëa had already learned Undercommon, so she could make herself understood with ease. It wasn't quite as graceful and pleasing to the ear as drow—according to Khaless—but it was certainly useful.

"And why did you learn? To deceive?" Thalion said. But his anger was beginning to fade, replaced by curiosity. He knew better than to trust a drow, but part of him was determined to divine what had brought her to these woods. Yes, she would still die by his hand. That didn't mean that he had to be ignorant of her motivations. A tiny part of him also pointed out that if Alassëa had spoken truly, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to harm this one. The little seed of doubt had been planted and perhaps one day it would grow to bear fruit.

"Why do you ask questions when you already think you know the answer, _darthiir_?" she asked. She could see him perfectly well in the darkness, tan skin bathed in silver moonlight. There was a change in his face. It had softened a little even though she could read danger in the stubborn set of his jaw. She couldn't help her own smile, creeping across her face. She didn't know what it was about this one, but he made her laugh. "You've showed yourself, so clearly you do not mean to kill me right away."

His arm drew back the arrow that he'd let slack a little. "I will kill you," he threatened.

She laughed. It was refreshing to meet someone who was at least straightforward. It was a far cry from the drow, even if it was foolish. But then again, she knew that he could have killed her from above in a heartbeat and she would have been very, very dead. He had chosen instead to talk. That meant he wanted to know something about her or at least glean something from her. "I know."

"Why are you here?" he said.

Khaless let out a small, wistful sigh and looked up at the sky. It wasn't something she'd be familiar with for much longer if she didn't think her way out of this. "For the moon," she answered honestly. Its light was always the greatest appeal of the surface world aside from the people who dwelt there. She could have prayed to Eilistraee in the depths all she wanted. Reaching the end of the Night Beneath was hardly necessary. But it was somehow better here.

Thalion wasn't certain if she was being honest, but he found himself believing that maybe, just maybe, she was. "You're a strange drow."

"And you are a strange _darthiir_. Shouldn't you be cavorting about under the sun or the starlight?" she said, surprised at herself. She hadn't imagined she had the gall to play that game with someone quite willing to kill her. But then again, if she was going to die, she might as well have enjoyed herself. "Cavort away."

He actually chuckled, attention wavering. She saw her chance and sprang, knocking his bow aside and tackling him to the ground. He was bigger and stronger, but she had surprise on her side. The drow pinned him to the ground but it took two hands. She couldn't get to her knife to finish him. It was also hard to keep herself on top of him and stable while he thrashed around. Thalion bared his teeth at her and snapped, hazel eyes feral in the moonlight. She pressed his arm down and waited until he pushed up. As soon as he did, she went with the momentum and pulled his arm across his body, catching him in an uncomfortable joint lock.

"This ends one of two ways, _darthiir_," she said smoothly. "I break your sword arm and run, or you give me a minute's head start. Perhaps you are a sporting hunter?" She'd done it before herself, let a prisoner escape just to track them down again for the sheer entertainment value of not just straightforwardly executing them.

He was wise enough to stop struggling. "One more question before we decide," he said. "This is twice you've come out on top. Literally, this time. Who are you?"

She saw no harm in giving her name to one surface elf. What was he going to do, tell Haelra with his dying breath on the Spider Queen's altar? Her sister wouldn't have believed him anyway. "Khaless Dryaalis. And you? Let us be civil if we are to kill each other, _darthiir_."

"Thalion Vanafidon," he said, even though he was surprised by the courtesy she was extending him. He hadn't expected a drow to particularly care. Now that he was looking up, he could see her face. Haughty, coldly beautiful features and captivating crimson eyes with snow white hair falling into them. It wasn't what he'd expected. The only drow he had ever encountered were males and fearsome-looking ones at that. He got the distinct impression she was toying with him now that she had the upper hand and he definitely didn't appreciate that. The least she could do was take her situation seriously.

"So, _Thalion_," she said with emphasis, her accent giving his name an exotic sound. "What's it to be? Broken arm or head start?"

He knew she was serious, no matter how flippantly it was said. "Head start," he muttered. She released him and sprang back, kicking his bow away from him.

"One minute," she called over her shoulder as she darted away through the trees back towards the crack in the stone that was her entrance home. If she couldn't reach it, there were other caves in the area. They didn't join with the Underdark, but they would offer shelter from the sun and maybe water. Food was going to be a problem. Damn it, she needed supplies to get home. She knew the elf wouldn't give a real head start to her, but at least her curiosity was satisfied. Now he was an actual person and not just an interchangeable enemy. She could justify sparing him.

Thalion's widened as he lay down on the ground. He hadn't thought she was serious. He almost wanted to give her a minute, but his devotion to Shevarash would not permit it. The elf sprang up and raced off, hot on her heels. Khaless could hear him behind her. Neither were being stealthy now as they ran flat out for pure speed. She was just a little bit quicker than him, gradually gaining distance. "Drow!" he shouted behind her.

That was when Khaless remembered he wasn't alone. "_Vith_!" she hissed as she saw the others approaching rapidly with blades drawn. She grabbed a handful of daylight beads and breathed a soft prayer to Eilistraee before closing her eyes as she ran and throwing them over her shoulder. There was a brilliant flash and cries of pain behind her. Apparently even surface elves were susceptible to blinding light. She made a mental note of that and kept running until her breath was coming ragged in her throat and the elves were far, far behind her. This area of woods was still familiar—she had hunted it many a time. The drow switched to stealth, carefully obliterating her trail in case they chose to follow. She stopped at a small stream to actually drink, wishing she had a water-skin.

Which she'd had, before stupidly giving it away to a svirfneblin. Her survival instincts were sadly lacking these days.

Khaless sighed. She could see light starting to dawn on the horizon and knew her time had run out. It was the blue hour, everything around her cast in shades of azure and soft gray. Whether she liked it or not, she would be spending the day on the surface. She headed for the deepest cave she knew of, comforted by the stalactites and stalagmites along with the constant dripping of water. She'd had to drop her bag with the rest of her possessions in it during the run, but she still had her weapons and her armor. The drowess settled down for a long, uncomfortable night pressed up against a cave wall.


	4. A Song of Inks

Thalion poured the contents of the small bag out onto the table. A leather-bound book, a stylus and ink, a few rolls of parchment that looked like hand-drawn maps, a bundle of gray goose feathers, a small seashell, and a small ivory spider carving with some kind of glyph on it tumbled out. It was...not what he'd expected for a drow. No weapons, no poison, and nothing particularly threatening. He was beginning to think there was some credence to Alassëa's story of her being a worshipper of Eilistraee. He didn't know what that meant regarding Shevarash's dictates. It had always been a sort of grey area of ignorance and mistrust. "What is this?" he asked the priestess of Eilistraee, looking up.

"Well, from the arrows, I'd say the feathers are for fletching," Caradhion said. He tapped the little piece of carved ivory. "That is a house glyph of Baenre. I imagine the name is familiar. What I do not understand is why they are near the surface again. I thought that they had learned after their defeat at Mithril Hall." He picked up the seashell curiously and turned it in his fingers before holding it up to the sunlight. The brown and white twisting shell was a delicate, blushing pink on its inside. What use did a drow have for such a little thing? "I don't understand how she managed to escape."

The avenger of Shevarash shrugged. "She was quick on her feet," he said. He'd carefully tried to keep as much detail about his encounter with the drowess as secret as possible. He wasn't quite ready to admit that he'd given a drow his name or even stopped long enough to talk. Which had allowed her to slip away, unfortunately. Or perhaps fortunately. He wasn't certain at the moment as he looked down at her belongings. It seemed very innocent. Except maybe the book.

"You might have surprised her," Caranion said chidingly.

"I tried," Thalion said, irritated by the tone the priest was taking. "But she caught me." Alassëa smiled faintly. She expected he'd shown himself somehow and Khaless had tricked him. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so defensive.

Thalion picked up the book and flipped it open. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not what he saw. There was a beautiful ink drawing of a subterranean city of gleaming lights and almost elven aesthetics with slender pillars and vaulted arches surrounded by statues of what had to be drow. Spider and web motifs seemed to dominate the broad avenues shown in the painting, the viewer looking from a height off to the side. In the corner of the painting was a small word written in the drow language, the hand lovely enough to be calligraphy but still something impenetrable to him. For a moment he just looked at it, enchanted. Then he flipped to the next page. There was another, equally detailed drawing—they seemed too precise and perfected to be sketches—of a drow woman sitting at what looked like a vanity, lips pursed and brow furrowed as she looked out of the picture. Every detail, from hair to her bare feet, had been captured. It was as if he was looking at it himself save for the lack of color. Another little note decorated the bottom of the page. He flipped through the book. It was almost full of ink drawings. He saw a starlight night with a brilliant moon rising over the treetops, a river coursing through standing stones, and even mountains wreathed in mist.

He held it out for the others to see. Even Alassëa looked surprised. "Is that her drawing?" the priestess said, gently taking the book out of his hands and turning it to look. "This must be Menzoberranzan. Her home."

"You can read it?" Caranion said, surprised. "Through what means did you come to know the tongue of the drow?"

"Rûdhon taught me a little. I can really only read it, not speak it. He says my accent mangles it," she said absentmindedly, flipping to the next page. "Haelra. She mentioned that she had a sister, and I certainly see the family resemblance." Alassëa brushed her finger over the symbol of Lloth the woman was wearing and the sacrificial dagger that had been set on the surface of the vanity, reflected back in the mirror. "I didn't know that she was a priestess of Lloth, though. The rest of these are all Underdark wilds..." She showed them a picture of a deep dragon curled around a stalactite, watching the hidden artist with a sort of bemused interest. "...or of the surface." She flipped to the page he had seen before, the moon rising above the trees. The drowess really did have a fascination with the moon and the stars, it seemed. She'd managed to show the swirls of purple among the black of the night sky through watering down the ink a little in places.

"I never thought of drow as particularly artistic," Thalion admitted. He wasn't ready to admit this one was safe, but he was beginning to change his opinion. Slowly and hesitantly, he was beginning to listen to the little voice inside him that told him this was not what it looked like. What was it Alassëa had said? What is on the outside is no indication of what is on the inside.

"Apparently you would be surprised," Alassëa said. Beneath her placid expression, she felt a surge of pride in her friend. This book was not an old one—Khaless really had decided to try something new. And though Eilistraee was more commonly associated with music, She certainly had an appreciation for all the arts. "I told you she wasn't dangerous."

"That may be a bit premature. She has wounded Thalion once already and nearly again," Caranion said. He took the journal from Alassëa and opened it again to a random page. What he found staring up at him was a statue of Lloth, frighteningly lifelike in its wicked gaze. It seemed prepared to climb out of the pages at him, malevolent smile chilling his blood. Sometimes, it seemed, the dedication of the artist to detail was not an advantage. He dropped the book onto the table, where it lay open to that page. Alassëa flinched a little and Thalion glared at it. "And there's this. Lloth, rendered in loving detail."

"That doesn't mean anything," Alassëa said defensively. She wanted to argue on Khaless's behalf even though she knew it wouldn't make a difference. She still wasn't certain she'd said the right thing. But she was glad the drowess had escaped none the worse for wear.

Caranion sighed. _Ah, the young and their idealism_. Alassëa was one of the few who really did believe there were drow who could be brought back to the light. He had lived long enough to know better, even though he extended a certain friendship to the elven and half-elven followers of the Dark Maiden he had encountered. It was a fool's errand they were on, but he could respect their dedication to a fundamentally good goddess. "Alassëa, what will it take you to realize this drow is not what you think? A surface raid?"

"We found the entrance to the Underdark and put it under guard. She hasn't used it, which means she is still on the surface somewhere," Thalion said, flipping the book shut. The picture had reminded him of the true allegiance of the drow—to their dark goddess and nothing else. "And probably hasn't gone far. She can only move under cover of night and even if it has been a week, she'll want to stay close and find her way back beneath the ground. Probably back to others of her kind. We should expect a raid."

There was a polite knock at the door and Alassëa got up to answer it. When she saw it was Rûdhon, she let him in. But her fingers flickered in drow handsign, passing him a silent message: _I've talked myself into a corner. Please fix it._ Unfortunately, Caranion caught sight of her moving hands and knew those were no simple twitches of the finger.

Rûdhon frowned slightly, almost in time with Caranion. The priest of Corellon didn't like it when he couldn't understand what was being said. What secret was being kept from him? It was not like Alassëa to be deceptive. He had come to rely on her word and her honesty. For her to be hiding something, it spoke terribly ill of her. Perhaps the drow really had spread her poison. However, the sorcerer interrupted his private musings, throwing his arm around Alassëa's shoulders and smiling pleasantly at the two male elves. "I hear my friend has been causing trouble."

"Alassëa's protests against confinement are quite natural given the circumstances," Caranion said smoothly. He wasn't quite sure where he stood with the elf, who he knew worshipped the Dark Maiden. Rûdhon's age and power as well as his good deeds had earned him a great deal of respect, even more perhaps than the sun elf commanded. That meant always being polite and remembering that one was dealing with an incredibly powerful sorcerer.

"And precisely why is she confined to the village?" Rûdhon asked. He was still contemplating how to handle the matter of Khaless. Their drow would only be able to evade capture for so long and then she would be in a world of danger. Particularly with a follower of Shevarash in the area. Likewise, the elves would be putting themselves in danger. If Khaless was missed, other drow would come looking. She was not the simple nobody she pretended to be, not with a sister as a priestess of Lloth. He had talked to Khaless more about her family than Alassëa had been able to get out of her and knew full well who Haelra was. He still didn't know what had turned their drowess towards the light, but whatever it was, it was a bone-deep pain. Something Khaless had said in passing seemed to indicate that her sister had something to do with the way she was now. He couldn't remember exactly what it was. Age did that to a man.

"For her own safety," Caranion said. "We have a rogue drow on the loose."

"So I've heard," Rûdhon said. "And I would implore you to leave the our guest be. If she is not allowed to return to the Underdark, we will have a drow patrol on our hands looking for her. I know Khaless Dryaalis and have for thirty-odd years. She rarely lashes out unless she is backed into a corner. You have very little to fear from her."

"Rûdhon..." Caranion said warningly, starting into an argument.

Thalion just picked up the book and went over to Alassëa with it in his hand. "Go over this with me," he said. "I want to know what it says," he said. Some of the pages had more writing than others, what looked like short sentences or verses written under each image of the surface's many beauties.

Alassëa nodded and moved to the other end of the room, leaving the two older men to argue. She sat down with Thalion. "Let's see," she said, turning to the first page that showed a pool of water dotted with floating waterlilies reflecting back the moonlight. "These are the verses of prayers to Eilistraee, written in cypher. All of Her formal prayers are sung. Anyway, this would look to be nonsense poetry if someone picked it up and read it. Being a devotee of the Dark Maiden in the Night Beneath is anything but safe. Likely she wanted to make certain no one would be able to read a thing other than her little descriptions."

"What does this one say?" he asked, pointing to the next page. He indicated the little symbols in the lower right corner. It was a painting of reeds bending in the wind, the clarity of the water they grew next to revealing a silver fish moving. But it was the grasses that seemed to be the important thing, given life with detail.

"The reeds' song," Alassëa translated. "She probably meant the sound that they make in the wind. I don't think the Underdark has anything like it. Not from what I've seen, anyway."

"You've been down there?" Thalion asked, startled. He hadn't expected to hear that from an elf nearly half his age. But then again, maybe she was young enough that she didn't realize the danger.

"I enjoy going to places very few have been," she said, flipping the page. "This I recognize from her descriptions. This is Narbondel. It's an enchanted pillar with a light that rises and sets as if the sun. To you and I, it would probably only be a little brighter than a bonfire, but to them it's a glow that illuminates the whole city. They set their time by it."

Thalion paused, looking at the light captured by ink. He could see the small figures of drow moving around it to narrow avenues that branched out like a spider's web. "You know her," he muttered.

"And you let her live. What does that say about you, avenger of Shevarash?" she said. It was a guess, a blind shot in the dark, but she knew she was right when he stiffened abruptly.

"I did not—"

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?" the moon elf said quietly. "I'm not saying you were wrong to give her a chance just like she gave you. Anything but, actually."

"She did not give me a chance," he said hotly before remembering his first encounter with the hooded drow. She had poisoned him with something, yes, but that was all. It wasn't even a lethal poison, but instead the drow sleep poison he had heard so much about if Rûdhon's knowledge of the drow was to be trusted. "Fine. She gave me a small one. But I did my best to capture her. Caranion said he wanted her alive."

Alassëa felt her heart sink a little. So that was why he'd done it. She had been hoping that it meant he was beginning to understand that Khaless was not someone to hate. But no, instead it was Caranion's insistence on capture rather than killing just because he wanted to know if there were more no matter what she or Rûdhon said. She flipped to the next page that showed the gnarled oak he'd jumped out of to catch her unawares, framed by stars.

"I recognize this place," he said. He reached out and ran his hand over the text beneath, curious about the inked markings. Was it possible for him to learn to read it? No, no. Why did he even want to try? It was a foolish idea. "She must have been in the area for a while to know these places. She certainly knew the terrain well enough to escape. Caranion said there are dozens of caves in the area but only that one under guard leads to the Underdark. Is that true?"

"It is the only one I know of, but Khaless always said that no one used it anymore. They all thought of it as a cave-in. But she managed to get through easily enough," the priestess said a bit more coolly. She hoped there was some other entrance that her friend had used.

Thalion snapped the book shut. "I think I'll keep this," he said almost hesitantly.

Alassëa raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, perhaps you can return it to her next time you see her."

* * *

It had been a week on the surface, sleeping in a different cave every night, completely without the amenities she had come to rely on: a bedroll, flint and steel, fresh clothes, oil for her amor and weapons, beeswax for her bowstring. It was almost enough to discourage her from returning. She had eaten by stealing from travelers on the road or her elven pursuers when they were out away from their various camps and water was relatively easy to find here on the surface. Sometimes it even fell from the sky, too. Her first rain had been a gentle one, to be followed by her first thunderstorm. That had been so terrifying she'd just laid down on the ground and held on very tightly while Rûdhon laughed. Because he was a damn elf and they had to find it _so_ funny when she didn't understand something. She would have liked to see them try the Underdark on for size. When she'd met them, they weren't even in the Upperdark. If they'd been introduced to the real Night Beneath, they wouldn't have found it in them to laugh.

But of course, if they went down there, they would probably be found by a drow patrol or duergar or some monster and killed. So perhaps it was better to pass on that.

Khaless tightly repacked her new bag of food and water, helpfully donated by a few sleeping elves, until it wouldn't make noise as she moved. She slung the pack across her back with her bow and crept towards the entrance to the Underdark where two guards stood, a light between them. This would be the tricky part. She didn't really have a plan, but did she ever? Usually she made things up on the fly.

She picked up a rock and flung it into the bushes across the way. Both guards started and then one slowly walked away to investigate the rustle, his sword in hand. Khaless cast a globe of darkness on the other and sprinted for the entrance. She threw the bag through even as she heard the shouting and was almost hit by the flailing elf trying to escape from the magical blindness. All the same, she forced herself into the narrow crevice. She had to twist back and forth while cramming herself in further. The other side was fast approaching. A hand grabbed at her armor and started to pull her back. Khaless whipped out a knife and stabbed blindly, her head turned the other way. She barely had enough space to turn it and was too focused on her escape anyway. There was a cry of pain and then she broke through. Grinning ferociously, the drow sheathed her knife and grabbed her supplies. She sprinted away and down the tunnel, feeling secure for the first time in a week.

Yes, she'd lost something very precious to her. But she'd also gained her freedom. She knew she would always be able to draw again as long as she kept her head. Survival was the first law of the Underdark and sometimes the only law. It entirely depended on where one was. At least the elves were not likely to pursue her into an Underdark entrance when they knew at least one drow was in the area. None of them were so foolish.

Khaless sighed almost contently to be back down in the darkness, even though part of her already missed the sky above. The Night Beneath was a barren, hostile, unforgiving place, but it was her barren, hostile, unforgiving place. Just that thought alone brought something approaching warmth to the center of her chest. Though if she was going to keep the center of her chest in tact, she would need to start actually finishing things off.

It was a couple hours into the depths when she heard them coming: duergar. She recognized their miserable accented Undercommon and grabbed her bow. There were other voices too, crying out in pain. That meant they were slavers, probably settling down for the night. She could hear the clink of something being hammered into the tunnel wall. Anchors for their slaves' chain, no doubt. They liked to shackle them all together. Khaless smiled faintly and flexed the fingers of her hand responsible for drawing back her bowstring. This was what she needed. Just a little bit of killing to ease her back into Menzoberranzan's mindset. It was so hard to be good, after all. She needed some time to be evil.

Sometimes she thought that was the only way she was allowed to survive in Menzoberranzan—the drow penchant for cruelty that still lived in her. She carefully set down her supplies and strung her bow with silent ease. This was going to be enjoyable. She didn't like slavers, whether duergar or not. It was more because she perceived them as cheating merchants who took up otherwise valuable space than any real strong moral principle. Though she didn't like duergar on principle, so there was that. Slavery was just part of life in the Underdark. Perhaps an evil part, but a necessary evil part. At least, as far as she could tell. Still, it wouldn't hurt anyone if these particular slaves never arrived at their destination.

Khaless hummed softly to herself as she drew an arrow and moved out onto a ledge. It was a comfortable little perch up above that granted her an excellent view of the duergar settling down to sleep. She waited an hour for them to get comfortable and set up a watch. Even the slaves were drifting off to sleep, probably exhausted. They looked freshly drug from their surface homes. She pulled up her hood and mask, the crimson cloth across her face sending a tingle of warmth through her body as the enchantment activated.

A good hunter was patient.

Finally, when the cavern below was quiet, she drew back an arrow and studied the watchman for a long moment before letting it fly. The shaft slammed into his head with a soft sound and he crumpled to the ground without disturbing any of the others. One or two of the slaves who were still awake made soft sounds of fright with their hands over their mouths, eyes wide as they tried to see in the impenetrable darkness. One was an elf and probably had good enough vision to tell what had happened even if they couldn't make out the source of the arrows.

The next one hit the first sleeping duergar in the throat. She'd been aiming for his head, but it would do too. He managed to gurgle an alarm and flailed wildly, hitting the other grey dwarf next to him. Before he could even come completely awake, an arrow pierced his heart. At his strangled cry, the others all awoke and Khaless circled around to behind them, working her way from ledge to ledge in silence. The rogue was perfect for this little game. She shot one in the knee from the side and then kept moving. He was screaming and she felt oddly at peace with that. As if this was what she was supposed to be doing.

Maybe it was wrong, but it still felt so good. Complete control over another, the power of life or death. She knew she was far from a perfect follower of Eilistraee. Slowly, ever so slowly, she had been walking out of the darkness. But it was two steps forward and one step, like now, back. She ignored the one she'd shot in the knee and picked off the next one. They fired crossbow bolts back, but by the time they'd done so, she had moved on to take another shot.

It wasn't a difficult challenge for a Baenre soldier with even moderate training. These were not disciplined duergar soldiers—they were merchants and two-bit guards just strong enough to keep a bunch of exhausted and frequently malnourished slaves in line. She had far more respect for the soldiers of the Deepkingdom, even if she didn't like them. They were a challenging enemy.

Soon the number had dwindled to two wounded and no others alive. She dropped down from her ledge with her bow out still, pulling back another arrow and finishing one of the two with a shot to the head to match the one to his gut. The other was the one wounded in the leg. An arrow protruded from his knee at a painful angle and he just lay on the ground sobbing. She picked up the hammer they'd used to sink the metal piton with the chain run through it into the wall and tested its weight in her hand before going over to the chain. She broke the spike free of its mooring and grabbed hold of it. Together with the hammer, she now had an impromptu chisel. Khaless used them both to methodically go through and break the imprisoned surfacers free. Even the elves, despite her natural inclination not to. Following Eilistraee, she had learned, was easy. She just listened to her inner nature, crafted by years of experience and imprinting, and then did the exact opposite.

"Who are you?" a young elven woman asked quietly, rubbing her wrists. She looked barely older than a girl, brown eyes wide as she looked at her rescuer. The girl was a little taller. Surface elves tended to be even though they were generally smaller than humans.

"A friend," she said, remembering her own rescue. She knew this elf would have probably ended up on Lloth's altar in a very unpleasant way had the duergar been allowed to carry on. And she didn't like the girl looking at her now with admiration and gratitude. She didn't like darthiir in general. They were pale, weak, whiny, and foolish. The only exceptions she knew of were Alassëa and Rûdhon, though they were pale. And foolish. And occasionally they complained a touch too much, usually about her behavior.

"Who sent you?" the girl asked, sweeping her long brown hair behind her pointed ears. She looked like another wood elf. The rescued elf could see nothing of the face of her savior save for the gleam of two eyes hidden in that darkness. "I'm Siladhiel."

Khaless broke the last pair of manacles with a few hard hits, the lock against the stone. "The Dark Maiden sent me," she said before turning around. She rooted around in the duergar's packs, not bothering to give her own name. Slavers always had ledgers. As soon as she found it, she smiled beneath her mask and ripped a few pages out. "Listen, there's plenty of food and water here for you now. I can guide you to an exit to the surface. Let me show you."

She sketched out a map for the girl and the other surface dwellers on the paper with a butcher's pencil the duergar were using to keep their books. The others couldn't see it until she lit a lantern from the packs for them, which burned her eyes until they watered. She'd had to take almost an hour to let her eyes adjust to the light again, even though it was barely as bright as a candle. The humans would be stumbling around in the dark without elves to guide them. It was unfortunate none of them had night vision. They would need the lamps. With the map drawn, Khaless instructed them on exactly how to reach the entrance to the surface she had come from.

"Thank you. This means a great deal to us," Siladhiel said. She reached out and touched her rescuer's hand, surprised to feel flesh and not a glove. The hands had looked so...dark. She flinched back away from the ebony skin despite herself. "Why are you helping us, _mori'quessir_?"

Khaless recognized the respectful name for her race. It was a nice change from hearing the normal, somewhat insulting version. "I told you already when I said who sent me," she said irritably, turning her back on the elf. "My supplies are up above."

"Wait!" Siladhiel called before they could make it very far. "Thank you, _mori'quessir. Namaarie._"

"_Vedaust_, Siladhiel," Khaless said over her shoulder, vanishing beyond the reach of their lamplight. The drow melted into the darkness and left them to find their own way to the surface now that she'd given them a nudge in the right direction.

"Was that a real drow? Did a drow really just let us go? Don't they hate the surface and everything on it?" one of her human friends asked, gawking over her shoulder.

"Yes," the young elf said in an answer to all three questions at kept watching the darkness behind the drow, waiting for the jaws of the trap to spring shut. But they didn't and the group was left to eat and arm themselves in the darkness. The duergar left alive was quickly dispatched by some of the others, but Siladhiel couldn't stop thinking. The Dark Maiden. She knew of Eilistraee's existence in an abstract way, but now it was as clear to her as daylight. Maybe it was time to learn more about her rescuer's faith. But on the surface, not below ground. She looked back at the others. "We know where to go. Let's hurry. A few hours, and we can see the sun again."


	5. Hour of Need

A snake-whip cracked in the darkness, striking Khaless in the face and tearing flesh. It had already raised welts across her ribs and shoulder where the teeth had not struck. Apparently Revered Myrineyl had been saving that for the truly painful part. "You lost the maps?" the high priestess said viciously, lips curling into a snarl. It was rare to draw the attention of Quenthel's daughter as a commoner, but as Khaless was quickly finding out, it was a painful experience. Particularly if said commoner displeased her. The rogue's head was slapped to the side and she cupped the bleeding, torn flesh of her cheek carefully. "How now are we to raid the surface? This is an occasion for success, not for your miserable failure!"

"Revered Myrineyl, if you kill her, she cannot guide us to the surface," Haelra said quickly. Khaless couldn't tell if her sister was more worried about losing status because of her failure or if Haelra was actually concerned about her. "Without a map, yes, we do not know the way. But she does. Let her prove her value as our guide."

"If this is because you are her sister..." Myrineyl said with unmistakable threat in her words.

"Strictly pragmatism, I assure you," Haelra said. She grabbed Khaless by her upper arm and jerked her back up to her feet. "You have a day to prepare, Khaless. Try not to waste it. And maybe start working on replacing the maps."

Myrineyl made a harsh sound of disapproval and turned on her heel, stalking away. That left the two siblings alone. Khaless steadied herself and spat blood. It was pooling in her mouth thanks to a torn lip. "She's a charmer," the rogue said, the corner of her eye on the wounded side leaking tears. It wasn't really a true cry, more the mechanism that flushed the blood from her eye.

Haelra pulled her sister's hand away from her wound and scowled fiercely. "You are an idiot. When I said you should gain the notice of nobles, this was not what I meant. What happened to the maps?" she hissed. She cupped her sister's wounded cheek and cast a healing spell. The flesh slowly knitted back together where it'd been torn, skin healing back to a smooth, unmarred surface. She'd been tempted to leave a scar to remind Khaless of what her place was—firmly below a priestess—but she had changed her mind at the last second.

"I fought a hook horror and that bag holding them was a casualty. It was lost in the river. The ink will have been destroyed by the water," Khaless said. More quietly, she said, "My book was with it."

At that moment, any doubt Haelra had vanished. Her sister was genuinely upset at losing her book, which meant it and the maps really were lost. "I...am sorry to hear that," Haelra said awkwardly. She'd seen how much Khaless enjoyed being able to commit the world to ink. As much as they fought and disagreed, the priestess knew her sister needed one thing, whatever it was, to keep her functioning. She took a deep breath. "You can guide us to an entrance to the surface, can't you?"

Khaless felt cold dread run like ice-water through her veins. A surface raid. What if Alassëa was there? Or Rûdhon? "Of course," she said automatically, knowing to refuse would be death. They would find a way anyway without her, so she needed to play along at least now if she was to survive. But what could she really do? There had be a way to send a warning ahead or something. Otherwise they would think she really was a spy. Maybe she could even take them up to another, further entrance and set them loose somewhere else. "I know several entrances. What is the occasion?"

"Matron Quenthel wishes to honor the Spider Queen with a sacrifice since She guided her to victory," Haelra said. She shrugged slightly. "As good a reason as any. Nothing brings more pleasure to the Demonweb than the sacrifice of an elf except perhaps the sacrifice of a drow. I think you'll enjoy yourself. You love watching the weak squirm and weep under your thumb."

_I used to_, Khaless thought as she rubbed her newly healed cheek. She was more focused on how she was going to protect her friends. Maybe she could lead them astray, through the territory of the duergar or a deep dragon or a pack of hook horrors. Some enemy that would pose a threat to unwary drow that liked to hunt by ambush. But then she would be the one to blame again, for not having explained the passages were dangerous. And one did not lie to Myrineyl Baenre. "I need to go pack," she said, not really responding to her sister. "We leave at the next rise of Narbondel, don't we? I need sleep."

"You're correct," Haelra said. She could sense something was wrong with Khaless, but didn't care enough to ask. Whatever it was—probably the book—the rogue would get over it. "Rest well. We'll need you at your best." At the moment, Narbondel was at its peak and shone down across the city in faint rays that were plenty of illumination for the drow to see by.

"My best," Khaless muttered, stalking back to her room. If she were wounded, she wouldn't have to go. Maybe she could get herself into a fight in half a day or the night. But that wouldn't protect Alassëa or Rûdhon. She walked through the halls at a quick pace, thoughts churning and roiling in her head. She was angry at her helpless position. This wouldn't have been complicated before. Sometimes she wished she could just crawl back under the rock she'd been trying so hard to escape. But now that she knew what the light was like, she couldn't find satisfaction in the darkness any more. Even when she'd killed those slavers, she'd let loose the others. It was insanity.

She stopped abruptly when she almost ran into a male drow's back. Her brain just registered fine clothing and she immediately said, "Apologies."

It was Andzrel Baenre. The Weapons Master turned and gave her a predatory smile. "Khaless, isn't it?" he said, handsome features arranged as charmingly as possible. He was standing between her and her quarters, which set Khaless's mind whirling more. Had he found something? Or had he been looking for her? She didn't have anything that tied her to Eilistraee, not any more. The book was the only possible thing, and it was lost on the surface. Which meant he had probably been looking for her. That was unexpected. Khaless wasn't a fan of surprises.

"Yes, Weapons Master," she said, bowing her head with the appropriate level of deference. She had no status as a priestess to protect her. It meant watching her words and herself very closely. "May I be of assistance, Weapons Master?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about Captain Chaszmyr," he said smoothly. "But perhaps that is a better discussion for someplace...less public. I understand he has a great number of cronies and they like to listen in."

"He's a good captain, Weapons Master," she lied quickly, taking a step back even as he opened the door to her quarters. She was sure she could think a way out of this one. "Harsh, but so are all the good ones."

_Do not be alone with him!_ her instincts were screaming. But what grounds did she have to argue? Everyone knew Chaszmyr made sure he knew who might speak out against him. Besides, nothing about him seemed particularly menacing. His behavior was courteous and he was even demonstrating respect for her with the use of her name. There was nothing definite she could point to. It was just a feeling. She almost felt stupid for it, but she hadn't lived this long by ignoring her intuition. Andzrel Baenre was bad news and she doubted she was the first soldier to have run into this problem. Who was she going to go to for protection? Her commander? Who served under...Andzrel Baenre. It was a good trap. None of the regular foot soldiers had the protection of the Church, the status of nobles, or the protection of the mages.

"And yet you consistently get the most undesirable and dangerous patrols," Andzrel said. There was a small line of frustration in his brow, but mostly there was just a certain cat-like interest. He was curious how she was going to play this. Khaless wasn't afraid, but she was cautious. She knew a trap when she saw one.

"I'm the best suited, Weapons Master," she said, letting her hand brush against the knife sheathed vertically on the outside of her thigh. It was a little subtle hint for him that she wasn't interested and she was willing to take it out on his flesh if she had to.

Andzrel smiled a little more widely and chuckled. Apparently he was entertained by the fact she intended to fight back and could even get beyond his web. "I think you don't trust me, sergeant."

"I don't trust anyone, Weapons Master. It's nothing personal," Khaless said, confident now in her ability to keep control of this particular situation. "If you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for a surface raid at the request of Revered Myrineyl. She is already displeased with me and I would prefer not to make it worse." She felt like she'd just jumped from boiling water into a fire.

"Of course. We must all bow to the whims of priestesses," he said magnanimously, even though she saw an anger burst to life in his eyes. It was when he brushed past her that she realized how much taller and stronger he was than her. A physical fight would likely not end in her favor, not unless she had a weapon and he didn't.

When she was alone in the corridor, Khaless let out a sharp exhale of relief. That had been uncomfortably close. She stepped through the open door to her room and almost started to see another male drow there. At least this time the face was a welcome one—Ghaundar. "You, my lady, are in a world of trouble," the grizzled veteran said. He was sprawled out across the couch, still in his armor. Had it been anyone else, she would have snapped at them for getting dirt and oil on the furniture. With Ghaundar, it was the price of their...friendship? Khaless knew she was as close to him as she was to Rûdhon and Alassëa, even if she had to hide who she was around him.

"I've gathered that. I had no intention of drawing the attention of the nobility."

Ghaundar shrugged. "So give him what he wants so he can get bored and leave," he said, sitting up. "Close your eyes and imagine me to make it more pleasant."

Khaless threw a cushion at him, catching him in the face before he could block or catch it. "I'll remind you of that advice next time a priestess comes looking for you," she said. She knew what he said was true: if she just gave up, he would get bored. Andzrel seemed to like having something to chase, even though he knew he would win in the end. Maybe the struggle made it more fun. She wasn't certain. But was it worth it?

"A hit, a very palpable hit!" Ghaundar said, clutching his face as if she'd really wounded it with the cushion. Then he dropped his hands. "You're upset and it's not the Weapons Master. Pence for your thoughts?"

She couldn't tell him the truth, but she owed him something. She closed the door and picked up the cushion, returning it to its proper place on the armchair. "I don't want to go on this surface raid. Not with Myrineyl Baenre breathing down the back of my neck. A priestess is bad enough, but a priestess and a noble?"

"I know, I know," Ghaundar said, clearing his voice. It didn't help his gravelly voice. "I heard she was angry with you. And just think, the raid hasn't even started yet. It might interest you to know it's been postponed a few days. I heard Matron Quenthel discussing the situation with the Archmage when I was on duty." He paused when he saw Khaless start scribbling a note on her desk. She folded it and tucked it in an envelope before taking all of the coin she had out of her strongbox. "What kind of trouble are you in, Khal?"

"You can't possibly imagine," Khaless muttered. She dropped her bag and picked up the note, folding it in her hands with the coin. "I'll talk to you later."

The rogue was quick to leave House Baenre and all the troubles that lived therein, heading to the merchant district where the rare caravans that passed near and sometimes even from the surface worked. It didn't take her long to corner a young, athletic human who stood probably a foot taller than her. He wore the worn, well-cared for armor of a mercenary and wielded a blade scarred from battle. Perfect. "I need something, and I can pay you for it," she said as he sat down on the creaking edge of a wagon pulled by two rothé.

"What can I do for you, mistress?" he said in accented Undercommon. For a human, he spoke it well. She drew him a map very similar to the one she'd given Siladhiel, with very similar instructions.

"This envelope is to be given to a woman named Alassëa at the nearest village to this cave mouth," she said, handing it over. She set a cloth pouch of coin down that made a soft, satisfying clink and suddenly the human's attention was focused squarely on it. That was not silver. It was gold. And enough of it for him to change his opinion of the drow as employers. "No one is to stop you. Take it out of the city and up this route as quickly as possible. You have two weeks and I _will_ know if you stray or attempt to give that envelope to anyone else."

He looked over into her crimson eyes. They'd hardened and seemed like twin rubies. "I understand," he said. This was not a woman he wanted to cross. Besides, he was a fundamentally honest man at heart, even if he was a mercenary. When someone gave you their money, you did what they'd paid you for. "Should I expect trouble?"

"Only the normal denizens of the Underdark," she said. "This passage is very clear, though. I made sure of it myself. The exit might give you a bit of trouble unless you have a way to widen it."

He chuckled and jostled a flask of something on his belt. "I have a liquid door, mistress. Eats through stone like it's a nice light cake."

Khaless flashed him a smile. "I love to work with someone competent. Good luck." And then she vanished back into the crowd. If she could just take a long enough route, she could keep the raiding party at two and a half weeks through safe territory to another known entrance, the one the duergar had used. Maybe, just maybe, this could work for a few moments before it blew up in her face.

* * *

_Perhaps you can return it to her next time you see her._ Thalion was irritated by the way the words stuck in his head even now, when he was trying to say his prayers to Shevarash. The book of drawings was still next to him where he'd been reading from it by the small stream. But the connection he'd felt to the soul who loved beauty enough to try to capture it had broken him from his spell of enchantment. A drow was dangerous and deserved death. That was the end of it. Shades of grey did not exist no matter what Alassëa said.

Three weeks or so ago, they'd had elves and humans come up from below, captured by duergar. They claimed to have been released by a drow follower of Eilistraee, but he didn't want to believe it. Drow didn't rescue anyone. Still, they had come to good company. Already, one of the elves had attached herself to Rûdhon and Alassëa, a girl named Siladhiel. He'd questioned her about their rescuer thoroughly, and the detail that stood out to him the most was the arrows. Grey-fletched arrows. And a crimson mask. Khaless Dryaalis.

"Thinking hard or hardly thinking?" the priestess of Eilistraee said, sitting down next to the avenger of Shevarash. She'd approached barefoot, her walk so soft he hadn't heard it. Perhaps that silent movement was something she'd learned from the drow too.

"I was praying," Thalion said irritably. He saw a runner from the cave-mouth approaching and rose, forgetting everything else but his bow. "What is it?"

"A human has come up from the Underdark. He claimed to have something for Alassëa," the young sun elf said. He held out the envelope. "Caranion tried to read it, but he didn't recognize the language."

Alassëa snatched the envelope up and slid out the paper within, unfolding the note. As soon as she read it, all the color vanished from her already pale skin. She sat down suddenly on the fallen log next to Thalion. "It's a warning from Khaless," she said. "A surface raid. That's all it says."

Thalion grabbed the paper from her limp fingers and stared at it. But he was only looking at a sloppy handwritten note in a language he didn't understand. It had the same verse style as the prayers to Eilistraee in the book. "Are you certain?" he all but demanded before taking a deep breath and letting his thoughts flow. "We'd best prepare our defenses. I'll tell Caranion."

"That's for the best," Alassëa said. What gnawed at her was that Khaless hadn't said when or even where. Caranion would have to wait to gather defenses, and that said nothing about the other villages in the area. Could they be warned swiftly enough? Siladhiel had spoken of at least one other entrance nearly three days away even on the average horses, near another elvish settlement. They'd be celebrating Lateu'quor in a two days. What if the drow meant to strike then? "Thalion!"

He turned his head. "What?"

"Make for Naruvir, up the river, and warn them. I'll take care of Caranion," Alassëa said. She picked up the book and threw it to him. "Take a horse and ride as fast as you can."

Then she was up, running to Caranion as Thalion went on his way. The high priest of Corellon would have an answer for this, some way to avert this disaster. It was certain. Absolute. He always had an answer for every threat they'd encountered so far. Yes, she was a priestess of Eilistraee, but she knew she was young and prone to mistakes. This couldn't fall on her shoulders. He'd have a way.

Wouldn't he?


	6. A Song of Ashes

The ash fell down like snowflakes, dusting Khaless's head and shoulders as she stood numbly in the middle of what had been a surface elf village. Naruvir, the Red Stone. Called that for the great red sandstone that stood at the heart of the village, carved into a delicate spire decorated with leaves and interlocking branches. But now it too was gray except for where dark blood was still spattered wet across it. Around her were dozens of bodies, some armored but most not. Finally, after the long silence, she reached down and tugged her arrow loose from a breastplate before returning it to her quiver. It was the last one missing.

The elves had been completely unaware of the menace that suddenly began slaughtering them until it was far too late. Myrineyl and Haelra had been meticulous in their planning and the raid went like clockwork. Bloody, screaming, helpless clockwork. They'd lingered a little, knowing there were no great number elves for at least three days in any direction. They'd burned the homes, the trees, the small temple of Corellon. There was nothing living or breathing within a square half-mile other than the drow. She imagined that the glow of leaping flames might have been visible to Alassëa or Rûdhon from their safe haven. Perhaps the smoke would be too come morning. She walked forward to find Haelra in the remains of the shattered and scorched temple, a body of an elven priestess lying violated and torn apart on the altar. The soldiers had had their fun too.

"We should leave. Dawn is coming," Khaless said with a dull practicality, operating as if an automaton. She was trying her hardest to just not feel, but she couldn't help it. No tears ran down her cheeks, no sobs poured up from her chest. Instead, she just stood there with her insides twisting into knots and a crushing pain in where her nonexistent heart should have been. She reached out and touched a small, carved wooden statue that had been left as an offering to Corellon on this holy day. It was a beautiful figurine of a bird, wings spread in flight. It didn't belong here, blood pooling at its base as it tried to fly away from the stained floor and the scent of death everywhere on the wind.

"You don't seem thrilled," Haelra said even though she knew her sister was right. She looked the rogue's face up and down in an effort to divine anything about her mood. But it was impossible. Khaless had made it utterly impossible through conscious effort.

Khaless's affect was perfectly flat. She didn't really appear to care one way or the other. But she did care. Every fiber in her being was screaming about the wrongness of everything that had happened. She couldn't even stand to look at the body on the altar, because she saw Alassëa's face instead. She didn't know what she would do if she lost her friends. She didn't know what she would do now and these were strangers. How was she to ever face her friends again, knowing in her mind that she had not only been present but a participant. Oh, there were certain things she'd refused—_Hold her down, Khaless_—but in the end it was still elven blood all over her hands. Again and again, she came back to this place where she did something that proved she was evil, irredeemable. It was just that Eilistraee didn't seem to believe it. Maybe the goddess would now. Maybe this was the end of her second chances.

And maybe she didn't hate surface elves as much as she thought. She almost tripped over the body of a child and felt the sudden urge to empty her stomach all over the bloodstained ground. It nearly didn't feel real, as if everything was happening a long way away. Someone grabbed her by the arm and yanked her around to face them. It was Myrineyl Baenre. "Weak stomach?" she said, suspicion layered into her tone. She narrowed her eyes at Khaless.

Khaless sighed, affecting boredom but also the appropriate level of respect. She tried to give the impression that now that the battle was over, she'd lost interest. It was nothing that the priestess had done, of course. Nobles didn't like being at fault for anything. "Strong enough, Revered Myrineyl."

"You advised that we leave." It was not quite an accusation, but it was certainly the voice of a very displeased priestess. She had probably been enjoying the chaos and other after-effects of the raid. And then of course the voice of reason had rained on her little parade of horrors.

Khaless pointed to the moon, where it was slowly sinking to the horizon. "That means the sun will rise soon. It will take us at least an hour to get back to the cave mouth. I do not want to be a blind woman flailing around for the surface elves to find."

Myrineyl released her grip. She knew that the scout was more aware of the surface's dangers than anyone else among their party. "Everyone move out!" she called sternly. The male drow were still 'playing' with one of the elves, who'd reached the point where her throat was too raw to scream. "Khaless, would you handle that?"

The rogue drew an arrow out of her quiver and nocked it. "Leave her or I'll shoot you too. And I don't particularly care who gets the worst of it," she said blankly. That was enough to spook them off. Sometimes, she knew, the most merciful thing in the world was death. She let the arrow fly with all the power she could muster, driving the point straight through the elf's skull. It was a quick death as compared to just being left alive with all those horrific memories and the sheer damage that had been done. She lowered her bow. "I though we were here to kill them, not to play games."

Myrineyl shrugged. "They need to enjoy themselves somehow," she said before starting her walk, leading them away from the burned village and towards the entrance to the Underdark. It was the same passage the duergar slavers had used. Khaless had realized just before they encountered the village that this would be Siladhiel's home. Why did she feel guilt? She had been a pawn. It wasn't her decision to do any of this. But she knew she could have resisted. She could have risked more to save some of the elves. Wasn't that worth the death of one drow? Even her own?

"Isn't death enough?" Khaless muttered, feeling too unsafe to unstring her bow. She might need it if they were set upon by other surface elves, coming to avenge the horrors that had taken place at Naruvir. She needed time to be alone. To pray in the hopes that it would somehow undo what she'd done. To try and forget.

Haelra slapped her on the back as they walked. "You did well," she told her younger sister, still smiling from their relatively easy victory. Khaless had focused on the warriors, the most dangerous, so that she could justify to herself that she hadn't struck down the innocent. It turned out that leaving those same innocents undefended was worse than just straightforwardly killing them. The other drow had not been so merciful or discriminating.

Khaless stiffened. "I heard something in the grass. I'll be back," she lied, immediately darting away from the group. "Don't wait for me, I can catch up."

Haelra chuckled. It was nice to see her disinterested sister finally taking an interest in hunting what was likely a stray elf. Perhaps it was the difficulty and the challenge that actually sparked Khaless's interest. "Good hunting!" she called after her sibling.

Khaless wound her way silently through the wood, checking behind to make certain she hadn't been followed. As soon as she knew she was alone, she let all of the emotion roil to the surface. She vomited all over the ground until there was nothing left in her stomach. And even then there were still dry heaves. She felt like she was going to collapse. How could she have just stood by? _There were too many. They would have killed you_. But wouldn't that have been better than betraying everything she said she believed by doing nothing? Was survival really the only thing that mattered to her? Was she really as selfish as every other drow?

She heard a real rustle in the trees and immediately thought of fleeing the scene of her worst failing. Her heart hammered in her chest. Had she been recognized? Was it even an elf? Elf...how could she ever face Alassëa and Rûdhon again? She had sworn she had changed, but really had she? The most she'd done was tried to hide the evidence. And what did that say about her?

A sun elf emerged from the darkness, sword drawn. He was too close for her to bring her bow to bear. One of the outlying guards of the village, most likely. He immediately sprang at her, blade whipping in a lethal arc. She fell back even as she drew a knife, managing to keep hold of it when she hit the ground. Khaless kicked out, snapping his ankle and dropping him. Unfortunately, he fell forward and his armor nearly crushed her. With the pain now coursing through her body along with adrenaline, she knew her ribs on the left side were at least bruised. She knew if he got his knife out that she would lose—he was bigger and stronger. He was beating her everywhere he could hit with a gauntleted hand. She used her stiletto like an icepick, punching through his armor with harsh overhand strikes. She stabbed until the blood was pouring out and he'd stopped moving, then another few times just for good measure. But by that time she was in agony, so beaten that she'd barely be limping away. At least one of her ribs was broken. She wasn't certain she could make it back to Menzoberranzan. Not in this condition. She needed time to heal.

That meant staying on the surface. She wouldn't be moving from the cave for at least a week. Haelra would probably expect her to be slow if she'd had to hunt her surface elf down, playing with him like some kind of sick toy. It was a blessing she didn't know the truth. Khaless groaned even as she shifted the elf off of her battered body and had to force herself up to her feet. Agony shot down her whole left half like a sorcerer's lightning bolt.

How could she have done it? How could she have stood by?

Khaless barely managed to drag herself to the entrance. Even as she slipped back underground, she felt her stomach churn again. She wished she'd seen the sun and let it burn her up completely for the first time in her life. Was this internal strife what felt like to have a conscience like Rûdhon always spoke of? She prayed silently that Eilistraee would take it from her. She couldn't stand this being jerked back and forth, the way she stood with a foot in each world.

* * *

"Oh gods," Alassëa said, pale. Her eyes were streaked with tears and she'd already stopped to throw up. Now she was leaning against Thalion as they walked into what was left of Naruvir. It was mostly just bodies. The rest were the burned skeletons of buildings beginning to collapse from the heat of the fires that had burned last night. The avenger of Shevarash was silent in his rage.

"It is better that we did not bring Siladhiel with us," Rûdhon said grimly, looking around. "They were thorough. No survivors."

Caranion pulled an arrow out of an elven maiden's head with a sharp jerk. "Look familiar?" the high priest said, throwing it to Rûdhon. Then, in silence, he left them for the chapel of Corellon, likely to reconsecrate it.

"She wouldn't do this," Alassëa said softly, shaking her head. "Not Khaless."

"I don't see her body here, so clearly they didn't turn on her for refusing to participate," Thalion said quietly. Just when he had begun to believe Alassëa, reality set in. "It seems you are very much in the wrong about your drow friend."

"She deserves a chance to explain if nothing else, Thalion," Alassëa said, closing her eyes to not see the carnage left in the wake of the drow raid. Not for the first time, she wished they had been able to arrive so much sooner. But instead they'd caught up with Thalion, whose horse had thrown a shoe and he'd been forced to abandon it and move on foot. Which left him not fast enough. This was all horrible. She had heard stories of what the drow were capable of, but this was the first time she'd actually seen it.

Caranion came back from the desecrated chapel, trembling with rage. "I want the drow spy's head," he hissed out. "There will be no explanation for this."

Normally, Thalion would have agreed in a heartbeat. But Siladhiel had insisted that a woman matching Khaless's description had freed her. Why would she save elves just to slaughter their kin? It made no sense. "I'd like to hear her explanation, actually," he said, gently steadying Alassëa. "I think she should be captured next time she shows herself on the surface. But first, let us attend to the dead."

It was a terrible task, but a necessary one. They could not simply be left to rot. Even Alassëa helped, though Rûdhon and Thalion kept her very much away from the worst of it. The simple, clean kills on the soldiers were alright for her to handle, but everything else was too much for her. She was too young and too innocent herself to handle it, though they doubted that innocence would last. Rûdhon could almost feel the anger growing in his friend's chest, not just at the drow responsible, but also at Khaless. What in all Nine Hells had gone through their rogue's head? Rûdhon expected it would be many months at the least before they saw her again. Enough time for the resentment to fester, probably.

"I think it was a mercy killing," Thalion said when he joined Rûdhion in wrapping up the girl's body. "Many of the others were killed in painful ways. This was clean and quick. Perhaps it was not hatred that motivated your friend to strike."

"Surprisingly charitable for a disciple of Shevarash," the sorcerer commented. "I expected you to be frothing at the mouth for her blood."

"Mark me, someone will pay for it. Your friend included," he said. "But I do think she felt at least a twinge of remorse. I find it hard to believe in the utter heartlessness of a woman who let me live. And I was actively intending to kill her."

Once they had finished, Thalion crouched down in the grass of the outskirts, looking for a trail. He hunted and found what he was looking for. Someone had moved away from the main group. He followed it until he found the body of a dead sun elf. He looked like a soldier. Someone had stabbed him probably twenty times, far beyond what was needed to kill him. Perhaps he had caught a drow unaware and they panicked. Perhaps it was their archer. There was a blood trail leading away from the scene, though he didn't know whose blood it was. It could have feasibly been the elf's, or perhaps the drow was wounded.

It lead to another narrow opening in the rocks, though this one was easy to walk through. When he stepped inside, it opened up into a small cave. A bag of supplies lay near the entrance, things strewn where someone had rummaged through them. He turned around to see Khaless leaning against the inside wall, knife in her good hand. But he had his bow trained on her and she knew he would be able to kill her where she stood before she could close with him. He could see her clearly with his low-light vision, thanks to the light of the sun streaming in even though she kept to the shadows. She looked battered nearly to pieces.

"I think you win this time," Khaless managed, giving him a smile made crooked by her bruised cheek.

Thalion hesitated, then made his decision. "Tell me what happened last night and I won't tell Caranion where you are. He wants you very, very dead."

"And you won't kill me anyway because...?" she supplied, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. But she couldn't argue. She was already sliding down the stone, collapsing into a curled heap of agony. He could see her armor was off and she'd bandaged her own wounds. Quite well, actually. He could tell she had some practice at tending to her injuries alone.

"You spared me that first time. Our second meeting I'll call a draw," he said begrudgingly. "I owe you at least a chance to explain. What happened to Naruvir?"

At this point, she didn't see what difference it really made, whether it stayed secret or not. "A surface raid, planned by the Matron's delightful daughter Myrineyl Baenre," Khaless said, cradling her aching ribs with her good arm. "The...your kind, they weren't prepared. The messenger must have arrived too late. I tried to lead them on the longest route possible to buy time, but Haelra hounded me to near insanity. I didn't want to bring them to where _darthiir_ actually were, but I hadn't remembered how close to the entrance Naruvir was."

"We found your arrow in a girl's head," he said, his anger rising now that he knew she had participated actively in the raid. "Would you care to explain that?"

Khaless looked down, no longer able to meet his eyes. She seemed to be hiding behind the curtain of her white hair. "If you had seen what was happening, you would have done the same. Death is sometimes kinder than memory. I did not want to kill her. I did not want to kill anyone. Had I not guided them, I would be dead and they still would have found their way to the surface. I thought maybe if I came I could keep them under control, avert the worst of it. But Myrineyl is a noble. They did what she wished, not what I had hoped for."

"You are no better than any of your kin," he said, though he was not certain he entirely believed that. Thalion was hard pressed to argue with her motive for killing the girl. He had seen the aftermath and the cruelties of the drow. "And you expect me to believe that was all you did? You guided them here."

"No," she said, looking up again. From the ground she seemed much smaller than she had when she met him on equal footing. "I expect you to kill me. It is what a drow would do."

"And I am an elf. Next time, drow," Thalion said, lowering his bow. He was angry beyond measure, yes, but he could also she genuine remorse in her crimson eyes. She really hadn't wanted this. "Until then, enjoy your own memory. This will be the last time it happens. I'll kill you next we meet."

Khaless smiled without humor. "I look forward to it." It seemed the elves were not more merciful than the drow after all. He had declined her an arrow in the head. But at least she might live long enough to exact her own vengeance on Myrineyl somehow. She wanted to kill Haelra, but then again, the priestess was the only family she had left.

"Thalion?" It was Alassëa calling out. "Have you found something?"

He stepped out of the cave, leaving Khaless to the darkness. Her supplies would last long enough for her to go die in the Underdark of her injuries. Perhaps that was more punishment than he could offer. "Nothing," he said as he walked forward to meet the elf. If he could preserve that last shred of Alassëa's innocence by keeping some hope for her friend alive, then he would do so. "Not hide nor hair."

"Then let's rejoin the others," she said swiftly. "I fear there may yet be more about."

Thalion nodded and followed her away, leaving Khaless alone.

Left in the darkness, Khaless picked herself up again and hobbled over to her supplies. First she buckled her armor back on, but then she slung the bag of rations and water over her good shoulder and sheathed her knife. It was time to try and catch up to the others, even limping as she was. Haelra and the others would laugh at her for her wounds, but she could survive that. It was other things she was worried about surviving. Life in Menzoberranzan would never be safe. And the bitter memories clung to her as she walked, weighing her down like bags of lead. Eilistraee would not forgive her this time and she had no home with Lloth or Vhaeraun or the Lady of Sacrifice.

She knew what she would do. She would pray to the silence anyway, as an apostate, a heretic, a weakling. Never expecting to be heard or acknowledged, she would still pray to Eilistraee. Maybe for the Dark Maiden to throw her away completely. She didn't know what she wanted any more. So she would return home, back to her life—if she survived in the wilds—the one thing that always took her back no matter how different she felt from that old self. Right now, she felt no different at all. Apparently she was still as evil as she had always been.

The light flickered and the darkness swallowed her.

Almost a day's travel away at her current pace was a small camp. She staggered in only to find Haelra and Ghaundar waiting for her. "What in the Demonweb are you doing here?" Khaless demanded.

"Healing you, idiot," Haelra said. She laid her hands on her sister's shoulders and let the magic flow through her. It was an agonizing healing because of her displeasure with Khaless, but the rogue bore it in silence. "At least tell me you won."

"I did do that, though I lost that dagger in his chest cavity," she groaned out, sitting down. Her body had a dull ache still, but her wounds were largely healed. The last of the bruising would fade on its own. "Haelra I understand. What are you doing here, Ghaundar?"

"She needed a guard. Also, you're what passes for my ally these days, so I thought I would at least wait a day or two," he said with a chuckle. "I didn't expect you to be so bloody, though."

Khaless just sighed. So this was her life. She was back to where she had started. Perhaps she could learn to ignore that warmth in her chest again. Perhaps she could be a proper drow again.


	7. Parted

Khaless gritted her teeth when she heard the door open. It was Ghaundar again, come to flush her out of her hiding place to go be sociable. She wasn't in the mood. He always wanted to go out for drinks or spend money or even take a few short patrols outside of the city. The last of those things she was always eager to do—Menzoberranzan was stifling right now, probably because she was still under Haelra's watchful eyes. Everyone else she'd managed to successfully evade through the longest patrols between the drow cities, all the way from Erelhei-Cinlu to Rilauven to Yvoth-Lened and back again, encompassing much of their world. It kept her well away from House Baenre's nobles, with whom she'd had more to do than she wanted to already. Mercifully, Andzrel seemed to have forgotten about her. He was probably quite easily distracted and an opportunist at that.

"Sulking?" he said, watching her pack up her armor neatly. She'd be leaving for a patrol to just below the surface soon for the first time in nearly a year. Chaszmyr had gotten tired of giving her the good assignment eventually. Or at least it was an interesting one, anyway. Anything beyond the city's walls was a dangerous task to perform.

Something in Khaless had changed after that surface raid, the same as it had changed after House Kenafin. It seemed to drive her devotion to the Spider Queen. More often than not he caught her praying in her quarters in silence. That was the only thing that ever seemed bring her any peace. Other than that, she alternated between harsh heat and bitter cold in her moods. And he wasn't one to pry, but she seemed unhappy. And like it or not, she was one of the closest people in the world to him, so the last thing he wanted was to see her like this for any period of time. He'd tried everything he could think of, including buying her ink and a stylus again. He and Haelra were the only two who knew about that guilty pleasure. It hadn't even made the slightest of changes.

Even the priestess was a little worried despite her station and natural inclinations.

"You want to stay in tonight, don't you?" Ghaundar said, studying his fellow soldier. Her shoulders were tense even as she moved around the room preparing. Her food and water were already packed. They'd be supplemented by anything she could hunt on the way or any springs and rivers she could find. "Not even up for a little jaunt?"

After House Kenafin, she had been lost. Now all he could read in her was anger living in the center of her chest. He'd seen her let it out in sparring match after sparring match, even on patrol against their enemy. It wasn't that she enjoyed deaths, just that she needed to vent on something. She was taking something personally. "No. I've got to get ready," she said brusquely, her arms folded across her chest defensively as he looked at her. She didn't like being scrutinized and never had.

Ghaundar shook his head. He knew she probably wasn't happy about her assignment that close to the surface again. So he did the only thing he thought would cheer her up. The male drow tackled her, knocking them both to the floor and into a groundfight. It was a play-fight, not the real thing, and neither of them were in armor where they could accidentally do harm to each other. She was an expert at deflecting his blows and sneaking hits in, but he could overpower her if he caught her.

At least it made her laugh.

They swatted at each other for a good five minutes, wrestling around on the floor and pretending to stab each other except with empty hands. It was a game. She would slap him and he'd clip her with a fist, never enough to do any serious damage but enough to be felt and certainly enough to distract. Finally, Khaless kicked away from him and leaped up to her feet. She flashed him a smile. "Thanks."

"You needed something to take you out of yourself. You can't think when you're trying to win," he said, brushing off. The gratitude as only he would. "Feel better?"

"A little," she admitted. "I still have to get ready to leave, though."

"Are you going up to the surface?" Ghaundar asked very quietly. He'd seen a couple of her drawings of the surface world and knew she liked to steal away up there to sketch something that would later become beautiful in ink. Nothing else would draw her up there, he knew. The idea that she might have followed Eilistraee never crossed his mind. The very idea was absurd. This was Khaless Dryaalis, as cold as they came when she was on the battlefield. He'd seen her snipe foes in the head from the shadows or slide her dagger into their kidney from hiding more times than he could count. She was no moon-kisser.

She shrugged. "I was thinking about it. It's been a long time. I guess we'll see."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he offered. She turned him down every time, but he felt like the gesture should be made now more than ever with her mind ill at ease. Khaless would talk about anything with him except how she was feeling. She was even more closed off than the average drow, always trying to keep things close to her chest. He didn't think of that as a healthy strategy for coping with everything that happened. He knew that surface raid had bothered her, but whenever he subtly hinted he wanted to know, she would snap at him and tell him absolutely nothing.

Khaless shook her head and started folding her clean clothes. She tucked them away inside her bag. She didn't want to talk about it. Maybe it was wrong of her to keep everything in, and Goddess knew it wasn't healthy, but she couldn't expect Ghaundar to understand. And she certainly couldn't expect him to keep her secret. It was hard enough on her. If a priestess put him to the question, she knew he would eventually break and then he would die too.

"You know you can talk to me, don't you?" the grizzled veteran said even as he backed up to head out of her quarters.

Khaless turned around and again there was that little flash of a grateful smile. "Thanks." Like summer lightning, it was there one second and gone the next. But she made her decision then. She would go to the surface. Not to meet Alassëa and Rûdhon—she was in no way ready for that—but to make her own prayers to Eilistraee and maybe an offering of some kind. Then she could draw and hunt and do whatever she pleased for a night before returning to the underground. Maybe she could find the connection to the world above and her goddess's graces that she had been lacking for so long.

* * *

"Of course I'm upset," Alassëa said, crossing her arms as she looked out into the forest from the small rise they were sitting on. "She hasn't been to the surface in months now. She's hiding away again." It was a lazy summer evening, fireflies flitting through the warm air and deer raising their heads up nearby. The fawns had lost their white spots not so long ago. A sense of peace and calm covered the forest like a blanket, except here. The priestess of Eilistraee had been growing more and more upset the longer they went without seeing their friend.

"You are angry at her," Rûdhon said gently. "What do you think would happen if she returned and you shouted at her? Alassëa, I am certain that wherever she is, Khaless is in enough pain because of the surface raid. There is no need for you to punish her more. Besides, we don't even know..." He hesitated. "...if she is still alive."

The cleric made a sound of disbelief. "Khaless is always fine," she said, even though she found doubt creeping into her mind. It was dangerous in the Underdark, the rogue had always said. And she meant more than the wildlife. Alassëa couldn't imagine what it was like to live in Menzoberranzan, forever watching over her shoulder. Keeping everything she was hidden for fear of it being exploited. Treachery around every corner and daggers in every shadow. "How is Thalion?"

"Restless," Rûdhon said. He'd been slowly working to undo the damage the surface raid had done to the avenger of Shevarash's perception of the drow. It meant sharing his stories of Khaless and her experiences with the surface. Some were amusing, others pleasant, and a few heartbreaking. Like the time they had tried to explain to her what family was like on the surface and she'd just looked at them like a lost little girl. For the drow, their only family was by blood, and it was rarely a happy relationship. It had some effect on the wood elf, at the very least. Rûdhon had caught him spending moments just looking at the drawings within the book when he thought no one was watching him. Even Alassëa didn't know that he still had it. She'd presumed it destroyed.

He was learning to read drow. Like Alassëa, he struggled very much to speak even basic words. It was his accent, the way he formed the words. A language that seemed so like elvish proved very alien indeed, but it was adding to his understanding of the drow. The linguistic roots of the drow word for love being in madness, for example. It was impossible to study the language without the culture and Thalion seemed to be interested. "Know thy enemy," he'd quoted once over a text on the drow tongue. Rûdhon had been nudging him in the direction of understanding in the hopes that he would begin to temper his stance on the drow. It didn't really seem to be working.

"I still don't understand why she saved me," Siladhiel said, sitting with her two mentors. They had taken her under their wings now that her family was gone. Despite everything that had happened, she had still turned to Eilistraee. That one moment of kindness stood out starkly to her against everything she'd been told about the drow.

"No one understands why Khaless does what she does," Alassëa said with a sigh. "I thought I was beginning to understand her, but then that surface raid. Why would she do something like that?"

Rûdhon had an inkling, though he said nothing aloud. He didn't imagine such raids were something one could opt out of. If Khaless was trying to remain hidden and alive, she would have been forced to consent. Selfish, perhaps, but not exactly malicious. Was it evil? He couldn't really say. Drow tended to think in terms of necessity. That had been Khaless's worldview when they first met. Over and over, he had tried to instill in her a sense of good and evil. And she had argued every step of the way, but sometimes he saw it behind her eyes. The moments where she really understood. And then there were times like this where he found himself looking at her behavior and unable to say anything other than that she had reverted back to that primal urge to survive at any cost.

Thalion was not far away, patrolling the area around the narrow entrance to the Underdark. He heard a soft hint of a sound from the crevice and hid himself in the standing stones clustered around the cliff-face of the tall hills that held the fissure. Slowly but surely, he could see a slender, hooded figure making her way out of it. She could walk through it easily. It had been that wide ever since it had been expanded by their human guest. He drew back his bow and let an arrow fly. It nearly hit her, hissing past her ear.

Khaless dropped instinctively, falling flat and then immediately moving as fast as she could in a low crawl to get behind something sturdy—in this case, behind a tall spruce tree.

"I said I would kill you next time we met," Thalion called, stepping out from his hiding place. He could see her looking around the tree's trunk at him with crimson eyes. They were so different from a surface elf's, just like the rest of her. She saw it was him and stepped out a little, her hands carefully away from her weapons. "That didn't discourage you?"

"I have no quarrel with you," she said, tone cautious and careful. She knew that as soon as that bow came up, she would be a dead woman. She couldn't dodge arrows for an infinite amount of time, if even at all. "I'm not here as a spy or a raider."

"That sounds suspiciously like what a spy would say. A spy who has killed elves, no less," he commented, but his arm went slack. "Why are you here, then? Alassëa is furious with you still and Rûdhon is as indifferent as always."

"I am not here to see them. I wanted to be alone on the surface for a time. I failed my goddess and I wish to atone. Surely that is not so foreign to you," she said. He could see sincerity in her face and hear it in her voice. "Understand that I am not a good woman. I don't know how to live by Eilistraee's teachings. I try, and I fail, and then I try again. This time I will likely fail too."

"Honest for a drow," he said, lowering his bow. "I have something that belongs to you."

Khaless raised an eyebrow. "Is it an arrow destined for my heart?"

"That too," Thalion said, throwing an arrow at her. She caught it deftly out of the air and examined it. It was a good arrow with a straight grain and expert fletching. The head had a slender taper and a wicked point to punch through armor even more sturdy than her own.

She slid it into her quiver. The plain shaft didn't match her others which had all been blackened. "I'm keeping this," she said. "You'll have to shoot me with another."

"I have plenty," he retorted, pulling out a slender, leather-bound volume.

Khaless felt her heart jump up into her throat. It was safe? She'd thought she had lost the book forever. It was almost laughable to be so attached to simple ink on paper, but for her, it was the one thing she had untainted by Lloth and all her teachings. It had been her confidant and silent companion for quite a while and held everything she had ever written in Eilistraee's honor. "You kept it?" she said, surprised and on edge. Was he going to destroy it now where she could see it? She wouldn't put it past a follower of the elven god of vengeance.

Thalion had to step closer, perilously into knife range, to hand it to her. He held it out and dark fingers almost reverentially lifted it from his grasp. "It had interesting pictures in it," he said, surprised by how wide her smile was when she took it back from him. He could see an actual grin, her teeth stark white against the ebony of her skin. It didn't last, for a moment she seemed so completely genuine and almost child-like in her excitement,

Khaless ran her fingers over the cover, then flipped it open. It was a little more well-thumbed than when she'd lost it, certain pages clearly favorites of the elf's, while others—like the image of Lloth—hadn't been glanced at very often. "You liked them," she said almost teasingly as she snapped the book shut.

"You have a good hand for a drow," he said with forced indifference. It was hard not to be embarrassed at being caught on her side in any way.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but there was a smile touching her lips. "You have good taste for an elf." It was the first time she'd used the elven word for his race rather than the drow one.

He realized he'd lowered his bow and she still wasn't going for him. Instead, she pulled back her hood and shook her long hair loose before turning her face up towards the moon. Bathed in the silver light of the moon, for a moment she almost looked as though there was a little bit of elf in her face. Then she looked back at him thoughtfully and the illusion evaporated. He found he preferred it when she looked like a drow, with sharp, narrow features and deep, almost blood red eyes. "Sit down. Not here, I mean. Over on that stone in the moonlight," she ordered, pointing. When she saw a hint of anger in his expression, she made a soft sound of annoyance. "I'm not going to kill you, Thalion."

He started at the use of his name. She had bothered to remember it? It was enough to make him start moving towards the smooth outcropping of rock. It wouldn't be an uncomfortable seat. "And what are you going to do?" he asked. He knew now that he had distance, he could kill her at any time. She seemed busy with her bag that she'd set on the ground. She was crouched down fishing through it until he saw her draw something out—ink, a water-skin, a stylus, and a brush. "Are you going to draw me?"

"Clever," she said with a definite touch of sarcasm. It irked him, but now he was curious. It must have been very easy for her to draw a drow—she saw them all the time. But an elf? Could she even do it?

Before he really could process what he'd tacitly agreed to, she was sketching with a pencil she usually used for mapmaking. He wasn't certain how he felt about being her model, but on the other hand, it gave him a chance to study her as her lips pressed into a line and her brow furrowed. A lock of hair fell forward into her face and he felt a faint urge to fix it just before dark fingers brushed it back. The minutes ticked by quietly before he finally asked, "Why art? Don't you have your hands full killing things?"

"The Underdark teaches patience if nothing else. And sometimes that means you have time on your hands to fill with something. Particularly guard duty on the outer walls. Dangerous things very rarely approach Menzoberranzan. I used to sit up in the watchtower and sketch all the time. Mostly the city, but sometimes the other guards or the animals of the caravans below," she explained, switching to ink. Sometimes she painted on the shadows and shading with various amounts of water mixed with the ink. But for the most part she was drawing the lines of his face, attending carefully to every detail. She wasn't in any rush, sitting on the ground with the book in her lap. A strangely peaceful air had descended over the clearing despite the fact that it was two foes in there.

"So you're just a soldier?" he said cautiously. Part of him was surprised. The only drow he'd heard of being on the surface aside from raiding was a noble. He had assumed the same of her, particularly with her skill and fine equipment. It seemed war was so important to the drow that they trained their soldiers very well and made sure they were properly equipped.

"A scout, really, but I'm a fair shot, so they had me up on the wall often enough. It was mind-numbingly boring," she explained softly. His pale skin both made it harder and easier to draw him. The shading was very different, but she enjoyed it all the same. Ever so slowly, his face seemed to come alive on the paper as more and more detail appeared out of the blank white.

"And a follower of Eilistraee? How do you survive?" Thalion asked despite himself. He knew he shouldn't care, that he should shoot her dead whether or not she really followed the Dark Maiden. She was still a drow. But after all that time looking at the book and reading over the poetry written for her goddess, it was hard to just write her off completely. Rûdhon had said it was out of necessity that she'd been on that surface raid, that it hadn't been her choice. The avenger of Shevarash wasn't certain if that was true or not. Rûdhon doubted anyone would be willing to listen, but Thalion...he understood necessity. Sometimes one had to do something that might seem or even be evil in the course of bringing justice to those who had done wrong. That was what he saw his duty as an avenger to be, but the truth wasn't simple that way. It wasn't always discriminating. So in his own way, he could sympathize.

He noted the way her jaw tightened in response. "I don't," she said. "It is merely a slow death, stretched out over months or years. Eventually the Church catches everyone and the end is painful beyond anything you could imagine. And before that? It is secrets and paranoia. Forever watching all around lest you be caught even though you know it can only last so long."

Thalion felt a twinge of sympathy in his chest. It would be terrible to live like that. He tried to imagine what it would be like to spend every day with a sword dangling over his head by a thread, destined to fall and slay him where he stood. Painfully and slowly at that. He winced and shifted uncomfortably. With that in mind, it seemed even more surprising that she hadn't killed him. "Why don't you just leave?"

She laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it. He heard the stylus scratching away against the paper. "And go where? The wilds? That's just as bad, but in a different way. Or maybe the surface where drow are _so_ welcome? How long do you think I would have before I was killed up here if I tried to make my way for any length of time? A week, maybe two? I'm sure the rest of your order would be very understanding."

"Fair enough," he conceded. He was quiet until she finished. Khaless blew lightly on the drawing, trying to help it dry. Once it was in no danger of smudging or smearing, she gently cleaned away the last pencil lines and approached him with the book in hand. Then she held it out for him to see. Thalion was surprised to see himself in amazingly life-like detail, with little calligraphy in one lower corner of the portrait. "Is that my name?"

"As close as I could come," Khaless said with a small smile. She actually handed the book over to him again, even though she missed having it in her hands. It had been more unpleasant to be parted from it than she might have admitted.

He noticed that she'd written below his portrait too, those same drow phrasings that were meaningless without the knowledge of the cypher. "What does it say?" he asked, running his finger beneath the calligraphy as he stood where they could both see it on the book's pages. "More verses to Eilistraee?"

"Yes. Asking for her forgiveness," the rogue said. She brushed her hand over the page, then looked up at him. "This book is too dangerous for me to keep now. It has a portrait of an elf in it. But I would not see it destroyed. You kept it before."

Thalion looked up at her. "You aren't really telling me to keep it, are you?" he said in disbelief.

"I'm asking, elf," she said a little more sharply, like she was thinking of snapping at him. Her white hair fell into her face and she looked at him with narrowed crimson eyes. "It's in no way obligatory." She suddenly turned and left him standing with the book, sweeping up her things easily and slinging her bow across her back. "I have to go. Next time."

"I'll kill you next time, drow," he said, closing the book as he watched her go. It was becoming almost a way to say goodbye. The volume felt familiar in his hand, his thumb brushing over the leather cover as he watched its owner move away into the shadows beneath the trees. Maybe he was keeping it, but he knew he was really just holding onto it for her.

She turned back, crimson eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "I'll count on it, Thalion." And then she vanished into the darkness without a trace.


	8. A Song of Eyes

Khaless opened the door to her quarters, immediately uncomfortable. She'd left it locked, and yet here it was swinging freely without any assistance from a key. Someone had been in her space. What were they doing there? She took a deep breath and stepped in. There, sitting on her couch with a glass of lichen wine in her hand, was Nizana Zolond of House Fey Branche. A powerful matriarch of an influential family, even if not quite a noble, the cleric was known. The rogue had seen her more than once here at House Baenre as a courier for Matron Alaunraena. The priestess smiled faintly when she saw Khaless come in. "So nice of you to finally join me," she said. "Had you kept me any longer, I might have started to get bored."

It was not a good feeling to be welcomed into her own space. Khaless looked around. Things were not where she had left them, but they were very close. Someone had searched her quarters from top to bottom, and an expert at that. This was rapidly becoming an unnerving experience. She almost would have preferred Andzrel in her room waiting for her. Actually, she would have preferred it. Andzrel didn't have divine spells on hand and a terrifying goddess standing with him. "I apologize, Revered Nizana," she said almost meekly, lowering her eyes like a good little soldier. This was not a woman she could play with like she did Haelra. And her sister barely endured her despite the fact that they were family.

"Have a seat." It wasn't quite an order, but it definitely wasn't a request.

Khaless obediently took a seat across from the priestess, keeping her eyes at about chin level with the priestess. One didn't make eye contact in challenge as a run of the mill soldier. Yes, her sister was another cleric, but that wasn't good enough to get away with anything so insulting. If she was a captain, she could get away with it. She wasn't one. "Is there something I can do for you, mistress?" It was better to flatter the priestess by using terms like that than earn her ire.

"You're very bright, aren't you? Such manners," Nizana commented, watching Khaless through faintly narrowed eyes. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"No, Revered Nizana."

A smile played across thin lips. "Good." Nizana sipped from her glass of wine, then set it down and delicately picked up something that had been lying on the low table between them. It was Thalion's arrow. Khaless had kept it, though the rogue wasn't exactly certain why. She would have said sentiment, but she didn't know what sentiment that was. "This is a very interesting arrow. Very well made. And strangely, it doesn't match all your others. Where did you come by it?"

"A faerie. A dead one," Khaless said. She was a good liar and she knew it. After all, she had a great deal of practice. She could avoid squirming even under a priestess's eyes. Besides, her little answer had just the right amount of truth in it to seem legitimate. The fact that she was being questioned like this, however, meant she'd slipped up somewhere.

"That's right. Your patrols do take you very near the surface, don't they?"

"Yes, mistress." It was hard for the rogue to tell whether this was a trap or not, so she assumed it was. This was like a very polite, almost friendly interrogation. Which was probably exactly what it was. "Captain Chaszmyr has been very careful to make that a regular part of my rotation whether I like it or not."

"And do you like it?" Nizana said almost idly, setting the arrow that she'd been playing with back down. Again she picked up her wine glass. Or more particularly, Khaless's wine glass...not that the soldier of House Baenre would dare comment on it. One dark finger ran around the rim of the crystal glass, making a soft sound. "I'd think that one would get used to it after a while."

"It is a quiet patrol. A less dangerous one than the deeper routes, though it does run the risk of surface dwellers delving into the depths, mistress," Khaless said in her measured way. It didn't seem to be arousing suspicion, particularly since she was either telling the truth or sticking very close to it. The less she had to lie, the less chance she would be tripped up and trapped by her own words. "It is also a very boring assignment, which is I think why Chaszmyr likes to give it to me."

"Do you ever go up to the surface?" the priestess asked. There was a glint of interest in her hawk-like eyes. Khaless might have shuddered at the intense scrutiny if she was less experienced and less careful.

"Why would I, Revered Nizana?" Khaless asked, looking vaguely puzzled.

"Oh, I assume you've been asked to scout it. Like during the last surface raid with Myrineyl Baenre that went so well. Truly, you outdid yourself to find a full village. On a holy day of Corellon's, no less," Nizana said. She seemed to be watching the rogue very, very closely.

"Frequently enough," Khaless acknowledged freely, ignoring the churning of her stomach at the mere memory of the village and what had happened there. A reaction like that would spell death or worse. "I know it better than the average soldier, certainly. It serves the Church well, I hope."

"It certainly served Myrineyl well."

Was that what this was about? A rivalry between priestesses? It was the most obvious explanation, but Khaless hadn't survived this long by jumping to the most obvious conclusion. Drow were too adept at hiding their true motives and one always had to assume the worst. She had to assume that something about her had been discovered while simultaneously hoping that the exact opposite was true. "I live to serve my House and my goddess, mistress."

"What a good little soldier you are," Nizana said. Her gaze didn't waver in the slightest.

It made Khaless's skin start to crawl. It was eerily similar to feeling the vibrations of a spider's web as it approached. And unfortunately, the rogue felt very much like a trapped insect at the moment. She didn't make a sound of protest at the condescension in Nizana's voice. Now was not the time to rock the boat. Khaless knew how to shut up when it was time to. But unfortunately the priestess expected responses. She would have to watch herself closely. "Thank you, Revered Nizana."

The priestess laughed. "Oh, you are a smart one. I wonder, have you ever wondered what your place was in the Spider Queen's eyes? Maybe you saw something you didn't want to. Maybe you did something you didn't want to. So doubt started to creep in."

"We all have moments of confusion," Khaless said evenly even as a chill ran down her spine. What did this woman know? Why was she bothering to do this? "But I am still as faithful to the Demon Queen of Spiders as I have ever been."

"And how faithful is that, I wonder?" Nizana said. She leaned forward and smiled faintly. "Tell me, when did you stop venerating the Spider Queen?"

"Never," Khaless said fiercely, finally stirred out of her quiet. It was practically ferocious, just like any insulted drowess would be if their faithfulness had been impugned. Her eyes flashed upward, but she quickly lowered them again. Her point had been made, a lie or not.

It was enough to make Nizana back off, no matter how slightly. She rose to her feet. "I suppose time will tell how true that is. Eyes are on you, Khaless Dryaalis," she said before parting.

Khaless knew that had a double meaning. More than just the metaphorical, it could also be quite literal—the Eyes of Lloth, the Church's spies, could very well be watching her if she was a suspected apostate. Why Nizana had given her a warning, she had no idea. Likely, it meant they had no evidence yet. The Revered Daughter had a reputation for waiting until she had actual solid proof before sending an inquisitor or a Dread Fang. Maybe they wanted to warn her back to the fold. That, or Nizana Zolond was trying to inspire fear in her for some unknown reason. It had been a little too close to home, no matter the reason. She would have to be much, much more careful.

After a few minutes, she cleaned up the empty wine glass and then stood up. It was time to talk to Ghaundar and see if he knew anything. Talking to Haelra would just invite her sister to pry more into her life, but the male drow could be relied upon to keep quiet.

She met her sister coming out of his room and sighed softly. That meant Ghaundar would probably be indisposed. Priestesses tended to win. "Haelra," the rogue greeted, accepting the irritated look that the cleric shot her.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Khaless?" the priestess said waspishly.

"I need to speak with your toy," she said, brushing past her older sibling and into the room. Ghaundar was still in bed, looking exhausted and uncomfortable. Khaless closed the door behind herself, effectively shutting her sister out of the conversation. "You look terrible."

"Funny," he said dryly, wincing as he touched the scratch marks on his chest. Haelra was not a particularly gentle woman on her best days, but she seemed to be in a mood. That made everything worse. And if tormenting Ghaundar hadn't cheered her up, it meant she really was irritated. Another priestess had probably stepped on her toes or ruined her plans. "I assume you came to laugh?"

"Nizana Zolond just snuck into my quarters, searched them, and then accused me of forsaking Lloth," Khaless said, sitting down in his chair while he levered himself up. "I'm not really in the mood for laughter. So you're quite safe."

"Well, I think you've had a worse day than I have," Ghaundar said. He winced a little and shifted uncomfortably. "Though parts of me I don't remember having all hurt."

"She is a bitch, yes," Khaless agreed. She grabbed a tin of ointment off of the top of his dresser and tossed it to him. He caught it deftly. This was not the first time they'd talked when he was still a mess and Khaless did try to take some care of him, even if it was just letting him vent or helping him take care of the occasional injury. She knew she had it better than he did because she wasn't a priestess's favorite plaything. "Do you know what's bothering her?"

"Probably the same thing that brought Nizana into your life. I imagine it's a priestess-infighting thing. Maybe our darling Haelra has irritated her and she's looking for a weak link to bring Haelra down a peg or two. It'd look terrible if her sister was a heretic," Ghaundar said. He unscrewed the tin lid and started dabbing the ointment onto the scratches across his chest. "You'd better be careful, Khaless. If you don't watch your step, you may end up framed for it."

Khaless felt a definite chill at that. It wouldn't really be a framing unless they set it up to look like she followed Vhaeraun, but any evidence against her would make her life very, very unpleasant. This did explain why Nizana had showed her hand a little bit. If she wanted to intimidate Haelra's power base into backing down or staying off balance, that would be the way to do it. "You are a font of wisdom, as always."

"Right now the only things I'll be spouting off are obscenities," he muttered darkly. "These sheets are probably ruined."

"Cold water will get the bloodstains out," Khaless said absently, turning her situation over in her mind. She knew Ghaundar was used to this sort of thing. That didn't make it better, but it was the way life went. The rogue averted her eyes when he applied the ointment to more sensitive areas and then got dressed. She'd seen him unclothed before, but she wanted to let him have the dignity of not being seen all battered. He liked it better when she pretended that she hadn't noticed his weakness. "Do we have a plan?"

"Heads down," he said sagely. Ghaundar was a veteran both of war and intrigue. He knew quite well that sometimes it was better not to draw attention. "It'll blow over. Always does. I heard through the vine that you're headed up to the surface for some preliminary scouting of faerie territory."

"And your sources are correct," the rogue said, giving him a brief and small smile. She was still stressed by her little encounter with Nizana. It was not the kind of encounter one wanted to have with a priestess. "Speaking of which, I should actually go pack now that my room is theoretically unoccupied." She stood up. "Thank you for talking to me, Ghaundar. I always appreciate it. Did you want anything from me in exchange?"

"Only for you to be careful," he said a little gruffly to hide his discomfort. His body would need time to recover. She knew how hard it was for him to be with Haelra from everything he'd told her—he didn't want her, no matter the fact that she was attractive, or to be hers, but he had no real choice in the matter. He could opt out of being her consort but he would never be able to refuse her advances. The most he could do was force himself to go through the motions and hope it would be over quickly. Which it seldom was.

"I'll see you in a few weeks. And don't worry, I'm always careful," Khaless said before stepping out of his room. She felt a pang of sympathy for Ghaundar even though she was only a little familiar with his plight. For the most part, she'd had the luxury of picking and choosing her lovers for the short trysts that were all she wanted to commit to. She'd had the occasional run in where she didn't really want to, but it hadn't been exactly forced. Just pressured. Chaszmyr had tried that with her, but she'd dismissed him even if he was her commanding officer. And with her sister as a priestess, he hadn't dared force the issue because he feared Haelra's wrath. He'd just taken it upon himself to make her life very unpleasant ever since her rejection. The real danger, Khaless knew, came from much higher on the food chain.

For Ghaundar, no was not an option. It was no wonder he sought some degree of solace in the arms of a few female soldiers. Khaless wasn't among them by her own choice. She thought of the male as something approaching her friend and nothing else. Being in his bed would be like sleeping with her older brother. The idea made her want to gag, and not because he was unattractive. A little scarred maybe, but she hadn't heard any complaints from either Haelra or his other lovers.

She made her way back to her quarters and sat down on the couch where Nizana had been. Thalion's arrow was still sitting on the table. Khaless picked it up and thoughtfully rolled it between her fingers. Rûdhon had told her once that it was different on the surface, that most people were together out of love. She didn't know what that meant. He'd said that it wasn't about power and control over another person, but something wonderful and shared. Two people meeting on equal ground. The very idea of it baffled her, like so many other things about the surface. Did that mean if she ever took a lover there she would have to give ground rather than take it? Not that she ever intended to do so. Mixing with other races happened sometimes, usually when a female was in an experimental mood or when a male was feeling particularly desperate and found a slave or a trader for something where he had control. But she couldn't imagine herself doing so.

She looked down at the arrow in her hands, the sharp bodkin point drawing her attention. The hawk feather fletching brushed against her fingertips as she ran them down the arrow and then touched the very point of the tip. It was well made. She could see it piercing her armor and driving straight into her heart. Would Thalion ever shoot her? He seemed to become less and less confident in his anger as time went by. It was as if he was transitioning from a hard rosebud to a softer, pleasant flower. Khaless enjoyed the plants of the surface, even the ones with thorns. If anything, they were her favorite. They knew how dangerous the world really was and sought to guard themselves when all the others around forgot that it wasn't safe. She understood that feeling.

* * *

"You've spoken with her?" Alassëa said, surprised. She walked through the village gardens with Thalion. Normally he was walking on his own here, but for once the priestess of Eilistraee had found him. Perhaps it was curiosity. She certainly seemed surprised. "She was on the surface?"

"For a little bit," the avenger of Shevarash said. "Apparently to atone, though she didn't say much or stay for any real period of time. I think she was afraid of coming to you and Rûdhon after everything that happened," he said.

Alassëa sighed and ran her fingers through her dark hair. "That sounds like her. But maybe it's for the best. Caranion still wants her dead. He's had an axe to grind with the drow since the surface raid where an artifact of Corellon was lost and his son was killed. The surface raid was just an excuse for him to chase Khaless, warning or no warning," she said. "I think he's still watching me to make sure I don't go running to her aid. You have an advantage there. No one expects you to talk with her. I actually didn't, to be honest."

"Nor did I," Thalion admitted. He cleared his throat slightly. "So what do you know about Khaless anyway? You've known her for thirty-five years."

"Yes, but she's very good at keeping things to herself. I can tell you the brief version of what I know for certain that's really about her. I don't think she has anyone in Menzoberranzan who really cares enough to protect her. I know she has a sister, Haelra, and they don't get along. She must have done something terrible to Khaless, the way our rogue's eyes look when she talks even near the subject. Something about another House. I know she's from House Baenre. She actually fought at Mithril Hall and managed to survive it, before she found Eilistraee. I don't know if she would do it again. Probably not. She said the defeat was horrible and I don't think she meant it was because they had to quit the field. I know she loves art and music. She sings, actually, but not very often and not when she thinks anyone is listening. Those verses that were written in the book I've heard before. The real prayers to Eilistraee, not the coded form," Alassëa recounted. She seemed to grow less angry as she was reminded of some of her friend's better attributes.

"Rûdhon mentioned that you were both trying to teach her about good and evil. Don't the drow know that already?" Thalion asked. It was a puzzle he kept coming back to. Surely the drow knew they were evil, that they acted in ways that were wrong.

"No, they don't. Not really," Alassëa said. "They live in a world constantly trying to kill them. They know necessity. Survival. Anything that attains that end is good, anything that gets you killed is bad. They're motivated by the same emotions we all have, not just sheer malevolence. Whether they're soft emotions or not depends on the person and the situation. Sometimes it is rage, hatred, jealousy, and spite. But they also have loyalty, honor, patience, and even love. They don't call those things by name and often they're seen as weakness. Most of the time they don't even know what those good emotions are to explain them. Khaless always describes it as a strange, sometimes warm, feeling working its way into her chest. She never has other words to put to it."

"And what does she love?" Thalion said despite himself. He wasn't sure why he wanted to know. Maybe to find that common thread with the strange drowess.

"I don't know," the priestess of Eilistraee admitted. "I think she cares for people, yes. Her sister at one time and a friend of hers below ground named Ghaundar. Even perhaps Rûdhon and I, though it's very hard to tell with her. She didn't—doesn't—really show how she's feeling and she certainly doesn't talk about it. But love? Other than art and music, I don't think she's found love. I'm not sure it exists for her in Menzoberranzan."

"But you think it does on the surface?" the avenger of Shevarash observed.

The female elf sighed. "I think she has a better chance below ground than above it, honestly. You have to be able to understand someone to love them. And I don't know who up here would even bother to try besides the other faithful of Eilistraee. She is still a drow, whether she's trying to do the right thing or not."

Again, Thalion thought of a gemstone. Sometimes Khaless reflected back the light and other times it vanished into her heart. He wasn't really certain if she was good or evil. Necessity, Alassëa said. Maybe the drowess, like him, belonged in that strange grey area between the two where the normal rules didn't seem to fit. Where the lines became blurred and abstract when compared to the reality of revenge in his case and survival in hers. Besides, she was something rare—a drow fascinated by good—and valuable. Maybe even beautiful. She could certainly create things of beauty. He didn't know her well enough to say.

Rûdhon came around a rosebush, lips pursed into a thin line. Dusk had fallen across the land and the sun was almost completely sunk below the horizon. "Khaless is on the surface," he said. "I just saw her in the mirror. I was watching the caves again for any sign of traffic and caught sight of her moving out of the Underdark. I doubt she'll come out before it's full dark, but if we want to speak with her, now is the time."

Alassëa gave the old elf a hesitant smile. "Yes, I think it's time we saw her."

"Would she want to see you?" Thalion asked. He knew that the last time he'd caught her on the surface that she wanted to be alone.

"She's seeing us whether she likes it or not. As in you as well," Alassëa said, catching the wood elf by the sleeve and tugging him in tow as the three of them headed for the guarded outskirts of the village. It was easy enough to leave, though they did get a stern warning about the dangers of the drow in the woods. The priestess had almost rolled her eyes at that.

By the time they had reached the entrance to the cave hidden in the rocks, the moon was up in the sky and all traces of the sun had completely vanished. It was only a moment before they saw movement and then a familiar figure emerged, hooded and masked. Thalion recognized her by the effortless way she moved without a sound, her bow in hand seeming very much like an extension of her body. "Khaless," he greeted, inclining his head to her.

She stiffened slightly, surprised that he both remembered her name and was extending her the courtesy of a proper greeting. But that probably had to do with the company he was currently in. Alassëa had a way of making people behave the way she wanted them to with just various looks. "Thalion," she greeted civilly. She wasn't interested in picking a fight with him. She hadn't really wanted to see Alassëa and Rûdhon still, but the avenger of Shevarash was fine. At least he was upfront when he was displeased with her. That was when he shot at her. "I'd ask what brings you here, but I'm fairly certain that the answer is standing right next to you."

"We haven't seen you for months, Khaless. We were worried sick," Alassëa said. "Why didn't you come talk to us?"

The drowess didn't say anything for a long moment, her grip on her bow tightening. Finally, she turned her masked face towards them. "I have no desire to speak with you any longer. Or ever," the drowess said coldly. But Thalion noticed that she couldn't quite meet their eyes. It was a lie, even if a well hidden one.

Rûdhon and Alassëa didn't catch the lie. They both looked stunned, like they'd been bitten by a friendly, happy dog. "Khal—"

"I'm done," the drowess said, her fingers brushing over the fletchings of an arrow in her quiver. Both of them saw the movement and it shocked them further. She had never been one to turn on her friends. "Leave me alone."

"What happened to you?" Alassëa demanded. She was met by a stony silence.

Rûdhon said nothing, trying to read that hidden face. After a long moment, he reached out and caught Alassëa by her arm, gently drawing the dark-haired priestess back towards the village lights. "Now is not the time, Alassëa."

It left Thalion standing alone with the drowess, his hand on his sword while her fingers lingered close to her arrows. Finally, she let her hand fall. "You didn't leave," she observed quietly.

"And you lied. Why?" he said, more wary than confused. But he knew almost instinctively that she had a reason.

"Ll—the Spider Queen is having me watched. If I were to be caught with them, it would mean death for them. They would be revealed to unforgiving eyes that would love nothing more than to exterminate surface elves and any followers of the Dark Maiden in particular," Khaless said.

"Noble of you."

A gleam of eyes regarded him from the depths of the hood. "Practical. If I allowed them to die, I would have no allies."

Thalion shrugged. "You're allowed some sentiment, Khaless."

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I expect you will tell them the truth when you rejoin them," she said quietly.

"Unless you don't want me to. I can respect your motivations. You want to protect the people who have protected you," he said cautiously and slowly, feeling out his way in the dark waters. It was strange to be speaking almost gently to a drow, even if every word he was saying was true,

"It would be better if they stayed away. If you can make them do that, I don't care how you do it," Khaless said.

He nodded. "I think I can do that. But why aren't you sending me away as well?"

"You would just stay out of spite if I tried to force you away," Khaless said with a shrug. Her eyes turned skyward. "Besides, am I not allowed some sentiment? I don't want to be completely alone and you have a whole order to protect you if they come for you."

They were both quiet for a moment before she said, "isn't it 'drow' to you?" she asked, pulling her hood down and her enchanted mask off now that she was safely on the surface. Not that this was really a safe place either, considering the forest was still patrolled and it was ultimately a place where drow did not belong.

"You use my name," he pointed out. "Shouldn't I be courteous and do the same? You were the one that said we should be civil if we were going to kill each other."

Khaless's lips curved into a smile and she raised one delicate eyebrow at him. "And are we going to kill each other, Thalion?"

He shrugged. "The night is still young."


	9. Complicated

It had been six months since Thalion explained everything Khaless was trying to do to Alassëa and Rûdhon. He wasn't certain that they'd forgiven her, but it had kept them away. And for him it had been six months broken up by visits from the drow to the surface that he never missed. He told himself that it hadn't been intentional, at least at first. He'd been keeping an eye on the entrance and had bumped into her. Guard duty wasn't exactly the most exciting thing in the world, so he'd stopped to talk to her. Sometimes he brought the book to her and she added another drawing, though she was fast filling up the last remaining pages. One left. He would be sorry to see it end. There was something soothing about watching her sketch those lines carefully in pencil and then bring them to life with ink.

She had slowly sort of warmed to him. Where first she had tried to talk as little as possible, now he could get more out of her than either simple teasing or, depending on her mood, poison barbs. He learned a little about her, from little tidbits about her personal life to her life as a soldier. He'd heard about Chaszmyr's irritation with her and Ghaundar's poor treatment at the hands of her sister. She seemed sympathetic to her friend, but he didn't detect a hint of infatuation. Alassëa was right, at least in part. She cared _about_ the other drow but not _for_ him.

Right now, he sat next to her with his back to the rocks as she brought a rose blooming to life on the paper. She was working from a real one that he'd cut so she would have a flower to draw, like she'd asked. She'd already painted deadly nightshade in ink, apparently fascinated by the idea of poison and beauty existing together. He supposed that she would know all about that. "Who's Andzrel?" he asked at a natural lull in the conversation. "It sounds like he's quite taken with you."

Khaless laughed, though there was an edge of bitterness to her tone. "He's Weapons Master of House Baenre, a noble. And if by taken with, you mean he'd rather I be taken by him whether I like it or not, then yes. He's not in love with me, Thalion. He's just back to thinking I'm interesting. I had hoped he had forgotten me for good." Her hand didn't falter as she carefully outlined a petal.

The wood elf's brow furrowed, anger growing at even the thought of it. No one deserved something like that even if he knew it did happen and not uncommonly. Particularly among the drow if Khaless was to be believed. It was about power, she had explained. Being able to dominate someone so completely was the draw as much as raw lust. It didn't leave a lot of room for love, he noticed. "And he's allowed to just—?"

"Yes," she answered before he could finish. She paused, turning her head to look at him with unreadable crimson eyes. "Who's going to stop him? Chaszmyr? Myrineyl? Haelra doesn't have that kind of power. She's a priestess, yes, but not a noble. And honestly, I wonder if she would even if she could."

"That's sickening," Thalion said. He reached out and picked up her model, carefully touching a thorn with his fingertip softly enough that it wouldn't break the skin. "Does anyone find someone to love in Menzoberranzan?"

"I've seen it. Ghaundar has a woman that he genuinely wants to be with, for example. She's a sorceress usually attached to our unit named Vaene. Pretty enough. I've never heard him complain about her in bed either. I think she's much gentler than Haelra. You should see the look on his face when Vaene comes around to see him. It's like she's the only thing in the world. And she gets the same way," Khaless said, her expression softening a little. "They deserve to be happy."

"But she lets Haelra use him still." Thalion was trying to wrap his head around it. Surely if the sorceress loved him, she would have somehow stepped in to prevent that. Female drow had power, didn't they? Unless there was more of a pecking order. He understood the difference between nobles and commoners but he wasn't certain what the drow had for social strata other than that.

"Haelra is a priestess. Vaene doesn't really have a choice in the matter. She tries to keep Ghaundar away from my sister, but there's only so much she can do. That's life," the rogue said with a shrug. She deftly plucked the flower out of his hand, careful not to prick him with the thorns. "And I believe that rose is mine."

"You know it doesn't have to be that way, don't you? You've seen the surface now," the wood elf said watching attentively as she tucked the bloom's stem between her knees again so she could paint the whole open flower rather than just a side. "I know you can't live up here, but maybe you could take the idea back with you."

"I don't think that is a flower that could survive in the Underdark, much like this rose," she said, pausing to mix more water in with her ink. She was ready to start the process of shading now, though it meant going very carefully. She handed him the rose so she could flatten the book out. "Here."

He took the rose from her again, paying close attention to her delicate brushstrokes as she added shadows to her work. The dance of her fingers above the paper to carefully manipulate the brush was impressive. But then he looked up at the profile of her face as she frowned slightly in concentration. The moonlight seemed to highlight her dark skin and and brightened her white hair. Not for the first time, he wished he could see her under the sunlight in full color rather than the little hints now and again. He wanted to really see eyes like ruby and that small smile so often almost imperceptible in actual detail. "If anyone could make it work, it would be you," he said.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," the drowess practically purred. It turned his face red from the pointed tips of his ears to his chin and she laughed. Apparently that was exactly the reaction she had been aiming for. "So what about you? Who do you love?"

"No one, in the romantic sense," he said. "Beyond that, I've lost my family but I still care about them. That's what brought me to Shevarash. They were killed by human bandits. It's my brother's ring that I wear." He held it up, showing her the emerald ring that she'd wondered about when they first met. "I wanted something to remember him by and it was all I really had. We'd been fighting, so I had thrown all of the things of his I had away. But this was on his body."

Khaless paused for a long moment, turning her head to look at him more fully. "I am...sorry for your loss," she said hesitantly. "It must be painful for you to talk about."

"The bandits are dead now," Thalion said with an air of resignation. He clearly wasn't satisfied with that, but he could do nothing more. "Out of curiosity, why did you choose to leave Lloth for the Dark Maiden?"

Her jaw immediately locked up and he realized he had just hit a very large, very raw nerve. But before he could apologize, she started to speak. Slowly and almost painfully, she finally told someone, "There was a House that lost a coup. I don't know what exactly happened to the nobles, but they all died. As Menzoberranzan's First House, it was Baenre along with the Church who was tasked with cleaning them up. Purge the whole House of its major families and the rest of the Matron's power structure. The common people break up and assimilate with other Houses—they're survivors that way, pragmatists. Many of them die, but that's really just collateral damage. Anyway, I was among those at the vanguard of Baenre's forces. The first in. Things were done...I had to see them. I still do in my dreams. And then there were the worse things I did at the command of priestesses, including Haelra. After that, I ran away from Menzoberranzan. I was so angry with Lloth and all of her clergy. There was a river that I almost drowned in. Eilistraee saved me there, and when I made my way up to the surface, there she was again. I felt at peace for the first time in my life. It almost made the pain go away for a little while."

Thalion reached out with his free hand, touching her arm. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I understand why you sought redemption now."

"I'm not certain there is such a thing for me," Khaless admitted. She didn't have the heart to snap at him and tell him to move his hand. It was oddly comforting in its own way. "I try, but sometimes it feels like throwing myself at a wall. Every time I start to feel like I'm on the right path, I do something wrong again."

"Like the surface raid," Thalion said. It was coming together a little for him. He could at least understand why she seemed so conflicted.

"Like the surface raid," she confirmed with a little nod before looking down at his hand on her arm. His pale skin was bright in the moonlight against the dark leather of her armor. For the first time, the contrast didn't seem alien. Instead, light and dark seemed to complement each other. Thalion realized he'd forgotten to remove his hand and quickly pulled away. She distinctly felt the comfort evaporate, leaving a dull ache in its wake. She hadn't realized what a soothing balm it was to tell someone who cared the truth about herself. Well, not that Thalion really cared. Maybe it was just telling anyone at all and not keeping it completely inside. She turned back to her flower and set about the finishing touches.

Thalion turned his head, catching the sound of elven voices on the wind. "Hurry up and finish," he said as she set the book down to let it dry. "I don't think we'll be alone here in a bit."

"We're right next to the opening," Khaless said even though she didn't look thrilled by the thought having to run from her night of relative relaxation. She set the book down so it would dry, weighting down the other pages with a stone. "If you watch this, I'll slip away."

"Already?" the avenger of Shevarash said.

"Don't sound so disappointed, Thalion," she said with a quick smile, pulling up her hood so her white hair didn't give her away in the darkness. "I'd almost think you miss me when I'm gone. It's bad enough that you're spending time alone with me."

"You're what passes for company here," he said with a forced dryness, suppressing the urge to ask if she noticed when he was gone. He wasn't certain why he cared. What he did know was that he noticed. Recently, it had made him feel almost as if something was absent and he didn't know how to bring it back. Then she would appear on the surface and he felt fine again. "Will I see you again?"

"Perhaps," Khaless said. She knew that the odds of her continuing survival grew slimmer by the day, but she wasn't going to remind him of that. Not when she was really beginning to enjoy her time with him. She wasn't certain what it was about Thalion. He was more understanding than the average drow and he knew her deepest secret already, something that Ghaundar could never be allowed to know. Maybe that was it. Whatever the reason, it was so good to have someone to talk to who didn't really expect anything of her.

With Alassëa and Rûdhon, she'd had to always put her best foot forward. With Ghaundar and Haelra, she had to be cold and professional. Thalion she could tease and talk to without having to do more than just be. Maybe he was the only one who knew now what she was really like. Both sides. Goddess knew she'd told him enough about her life in the Underdark. The little things more than the overarching, sordid tale of Menzoberranzan's history. And he'd told her about what it was like to be an avenger of Shevarash. It sounded incredibly lonely to be forever on the road without companions, sent anywhere at the order of a priest to mete out revenge where needed. It wasn't really justice, merely retribution. Sometimes the two overlapped and sometimes they didn't. Khaless understood that goal. Revenge was a familiar motivation to the drow.

"I'll be here," Thalion promised as he gently picked up the book. The ink of the verse was still drying, so he handled it very carefully. Next time, he would bring her the journal and she could finally fill the last page. What would happen then, he didn't know. Would she still sit with him and talk?

Khaless smiled a little. "You always are," she said softly before vanishing into the darkness of the cave. It was new to have someone waiting for her this way, but she would be lying if she said she didn't like it. When she walked into the Underdark, the smile remained.

Thalion watched her go before taking a deep breath and heading back to the village. By the time he'd reached it and fallen asleep, it was nearing dawn. He was up again with the sun, thankfully requiring very little sleep. The elf headed down to the small market and hunted through the shops. He was paging through a few volumes when Alassëa came up behind him.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked with amusement.

"Buying a journal," he said, handing over a few coins. It had good thick paper, perfect for drawing on. He could get her to stay this way, by giving her more pages to fill. At least, he hoped so.

* * *

"You're happy," Ghaundar said, listening to Khaless hum as she fletched an arrow. It had been a gradual change in her, but it seemed more pronounced than ever this time she'd arrived home. It was nice to see, certainly, but strange. Even Haelra in one of her moods hadn't been able to dampen the rogue's spirits, at least when she first came into the city. Khaless had just ignored the snaps and snipes. They rolled off her like water. "Let me guess."

"Alright," Khaless said, in a good enough mood to humor him. She split another feather with expert precision to craft the fletching, cutting it to the right dimensions. It was nice to have him as pleasant company as well—he'd just come from seeing Vaene. The sorceress never left him pained or angry, though once or twice he'd set the hot-headed mage off. It ended with him as an unhappy male thrown out of her bed for a whole week. Khaless had been there to go drink with him and say sympathetic things while silently laughing at him for getting himself into that particular mess.

"Well, Nizana and Haelra are both still alive, so it can't be something involving them," he said. "Chaszmyr still has you on shit patrols. Andzrel is still looking for you. So I'm going to go with the natural conclusion. You have a new lover."

The drowess almost slipped and cut herself for the first time in a very, very long time. "Definitely not," she said, thinking of Thalion. Could they ever even...? She felt an unfamiliar twinge in her chest. It was a different strange feeling than the one that had motivated her to leave him alive. Was that what she wanted? She hadn't given it any thought, but whatever this was, she needed to crush it quickly. If the surface elf ever caught wind of her harboring any kind of feeling towards him, she'd have an arrow through her heart before she could blink.

"So you want them, but you haven't gotten them into bed yet," Ghaundar surmised from her posture and tone. "What's wrong with you, Khaless? It takes you two seconds to get a male into your quarters when you ask. Hell, you're getting Andzrel Baenre after flashing a knife at him. Granted, he's not welcome, but still."

"We both know that's about power and revenge, not attraction," Khaless said. She sighed and stopped in her task to pinch the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. Maybe it would be good to get this out of her system. Maybe that would purge her of the strangeness sitting in the center of her chest. He just didn't need to know the details that would invariably get her killed. "Look, you can't tell anyone about this. And I don't even know that I want him as a lover. It's...confusing."

"Your secret dies with me," Ghaundar promised.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not even Vaene."

He put a hand over his chest. "You wound me, Khal," he said. "Have I ever betrayed your confidences?"

The drowess rolled her eyes at the dramatic gesture. "First time for everything," she muttered, going back to her work with particularly careful hands. She didn't want to lay a finger open. "Anyway, we're just...actually, we're not even allies. Just acquaintances who run across each other now and again out in the wilds. Sometimes we sit and talk when it's late. I enjoy it. I don't feel like I have to be anyone or anything for him. But it won't work."

"In a hurry to sabotage it?" Ghaundar said with a curious expression on his face, watching her even as she watched her work. They had a similar attention to detail right now. She was frowning a little now, either in concentration or a sort of conflicted unhappiness.

"I'm being realistic," Khaless said firmly. Did she even want that with Thalion? That was the question that nagged at her. He was handsome for an elf and when they spoke she found herself in some other place where she didn't have to worry about Lloth or the Church or even life in Menzoberranzan. The elves were a hundred miles away and she was content. He knew more about her than anyone else, yet he hadn't run or even flinched. Granted, he was supposed to kill her, but he hadn't. And every time she'd gone to kill him, something had stayed her hand.

"Well stop it," Ghaundar said. "If I had been realistic, I never would have put myself out there for Vaene. Why wouldn't someone want you, Khal? You're intelligent, good looking, talented, and in a good solid position with an easy promotion within reach. All you have to do is knock off Chaszmyr—easily done—-and you'd be a captain in a heartbeat."

"What if that's not the issue?" Khaless said. She was being careful about this and not showing her hand. She knew Ghaundar wouldn't mind. He was used to her keeping her cards very close to her chest at this point.

"You're a drow," her fellow soldier said bluntly. "If you want something, take it."

She shot him a hard look. "This is different. You didn't force Vaene into anything. Not that you could have even if you wanted to, but still. If, and this is a very large if, that is what I want, I would have to make sure he wants it too."

Ghaundar let out a low whistle. "Wow," he said. "He's got you so twisted up you don't even know what you want. I never thought that would ever happen. For the Goddess's sake, figure out what in the nine hells you're doing."

"You said you could never see me staying with anyone anyway," Khaless said a little defensively.

"So just sleep with him and leave it there. Whatever you do, you might as well give between the sheets a try," the male drow said in what he probably imagined was a sage tone. "Vaene and I were supposed to be a fling, but look how we ended up."

"A very long fling?" the drowess said with a raised eyebrow. She knew it wasn't true, but she figured she might as well prod him back if he was going to be like this about it. But even as she pushed back at him, part of her mind was wandering. What would happen if she made an overture towards Thalion? Surely that would end with her death. The problem was that drow women weren't conditioned to be subtle creatures, though many of them had a great deal of subterfuge that they were willing to employ to get a male to bed. After all, like any weapon, sex needed to be used with a certain amount of skill. In Menzoberranzan, she always had the option of an order to bed. Not that Khaless ever did that, but it was comforting to know she had control of the situation. It was why she hated having to watch for Andzrel.

Thalion put her in a similar arena of out-of-control. She didn't know the rules of engagement for surface encounters and couldn't just go ask. Ordering him to do anything would end poorly, let alone that. Maybe it was time to feel out the waters a little more. Before doing anything else, she needed to make certain her advances wouldn't be rebuffed. So what did she have left to do? Courtship with an elf was so much more complicated. And why did she even want to try? He still hated the drow and she was no fan of elves. He was an avenger of Shevarash. His whole faith all but demanded that he kill her. Clearly he'd forgotten that, but it was only a matter of time until he was reminded.

"No, this is a terrible idea," she said aloud. "I can't believe I'm listening to you. Or even considering the idea. It's not like that. It never will be." It was time to ignore the feeling in her chest until it went away. Surely she could manage that. Goddess, but she was beginning to hate what the surface was doing to her. She couldn't even control her own actions any more. She'd spared people, saved slaves, and now this.

Ghaundar shrugged and stood up. "What do you have to lose, Khaless?" he said before grinning at her. "I'm going to go find my very long fling again and subject myself to her whims for the next few hours. And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it."

Khaless gave in. He'd definitely won with that point. He'd be off having far too much fun and she was still alone. She could have found a lover quite quickly, but it wouldn't be the same as having someone she could really trust the way Ghaundar trusted Vaene. "Tell her hello for me."

"If I remember," he said with a certain undeniable smugness. The expression faded when he saw who was in the doorway: Andzrel Baenre.

"You were just leaving, Dalael," the Weapons Master said, addressing Ghaundar coldly. The veteran drow felt a sudden urge to bolt. It wasn't really a suggestion from the noble so much as an order. He didn't want to abandon Khaless, but what could he do?

"Yes, Weapons Master," he agreed before looking over his shoulder at the frozen rogue. Khaless was doing her best not to make any sudden movements or anything else that might make her more of a target. "Chaszmyr wanted to see you, by the way." It was an effort to give her an excuse to leave. And then he walked out the door past Andzrel in a hurry, headed for Vaene's quarters. It would be so much easier for him to just close his eyes and pretend he hadn't heard anything. That was the difference between an ally and a friend: one just walked away.

Khaless rose to her feet. "I should go see my captain," she said a little thickly, her mouth trying to dry up. Her fingers closed not around the arrow she was working on, but around Thalion's. She still kept it with her and now she was rolling it between her fingers like a worry stone.

"It can wait," Andzrel said with a certain smoothness. He was between her and the door, which was definitely less than ideal.

The drowess knew she had two options: fight or surrender. Flight was not an option right now. And could she really even fight? The risk of reprisal made it roughly equivalent to baiting a dragon. He was bigger, stronger, and would probably enjoy overpowering her. If she fought with him, that meant resorting to weapons. Which meant some serious retaliation from the nobility if she even survived. But it would be that much worse if she didn't give it her best shot. "I'm not interested, Andzrel," she said, moving forward towards the door. What happened next was a little blurry, but she definitely knew that there was a hand clenched around her throat and she'd been slammed into the wall. His other hand was guarding his body from a blow.

Khaless twisted and kicked at the outside of his leg, almost dropping him as the limb went dead. She definitely broke his grip. This was going to be ugly and she was probably going to lose unless she could run. Andzrel tackled her and they both crashed into the ground, upsetting the table. Feathers and arrow shafts went everywhere as she struggled to get out from under him. Her throat was already bruising and so was her face as his fist connected. She could deflect or redirect most of his blows, but she couldn't stay on the defensive for much longer without suffering a serious hit that could debilitate her. It wasn't easy for Andzrel, though. The drowess was struggling and hitting him with quite a bit of success, clawing at his face with fingernails and slamming him in the head with hammer-fists. He lost his balance when she caught one of his arms and pulled it out from under him at the same moment as she jerked her hips. It threw him off and she grabbed the elven arrow again.

All that practice with Ghaundar was kicking in. Khaless immediately jumped to her feet. Andzrel grabbed a chair and swung it at her, breaking it on her side. She staggered back with a hip exploding with pain and probably cracked ribs, but she didn't fall. Instead, she started limping for the door as fast as she could. The male drow battered her into the door even as her fingers clutched at Thalion's arrow. She was quickly losing this fight and that meant horrifying consequences. She needed a little bit of trickery to get out of this.

For a moment, her whole body went limp and she saw him grin with victory. But it was a trap. As soon as his grip loosened, she stabbed him in the side of the knee with the arrow and broke free. His was an agonized bellow, but she didn't really care. She was busy running as well as she could out the door and down the hall, hoping to escape. He wouldn't be chasing her now.

She really needed to be out of the city right then. Fortunately, her pack with her belongings and weapons was still sitting in the quartermaster's office. She had enough arrows for a dozen fights. It would be fine. Better to give things time to cool down, because she had no idea what the consequences would be.

Probably nothing good.


	10. A Song of Warnings

"Vaene, we're going to get caught," Ghaundar murmured. The two of them were in an alcove in the hallway, hidden by the shadow of the statues flanking it on either side. His lover was pressed up against him as he leaned back against the wall, distracted as she combed her fingers through his short hair and pressed featherlight kisses to his face and neck. It was incredibly hard for him to say no to her, despite his anxiety about being seen by priestesses. They were a little too close to the temple of Lloth for comfort. If it was Haelra who discovered them, she would not be amused and that meant an unpleasant encounter with a blade or a snake-whip at best. Then again, they probably couldn't expect better from any other priestess. At least they weren't in the temple, though enough things happened in there with demons that Ghaundar wasn't certain why it mattered.

"I don't care," she purred, nipping at his earlobe. Ghaundar shuddered a little and then gasped when he felt her hands start to wander lower. She knew she wasn't Ghaundar's only lover, but she had a solid position as his favorite and she intended to keep it that way. Besides, he'd been in Haelra's clutches not so long ago and she knew how to banish that particular kind of memory. "What do you think concealment spells are for?"

He would have mentioned that it probably counted as an abuse of her power, but she had his undivided attention at the moment. Vaene was curvier than the average drowess with an hourglass figure that fit in his arms perfectly. And it was getting more and more difficult to focus on anything else besides the wonderful feeling of her lips on his neck and her roaming hands. "Does it dampen sound?" he groaned, starting to give in. How could he really complain?

"No," she said before smiling at him impishly. "So at least pretend you're trying to be quiet."

He would have retorted, but they both heard voices approaching. Vaene waved a hand with a soft mutter, wreathing them both in deeper shadows. One of them was definitely Haelra and he felt his lover tense in his arms a little bit with anger. She held no love at all for the priestess and would have probably gleefully slit the clerics throat should she ever have had the opportunity. Ghaundar stilled, listening intently. It didn't take him even a moment to place the other voice: Myrineyl Baenre. Vaene covered his mouth and leaned into him. They were both listening intently now.

"Something is going on with her, but I don't think it's anything that extreme," Haelra said, walking slowly down the hall at Myrineyl's side. "Nizana is only interested in making the Dryaalis family look weak and unfaithful. There is nothing to what she says."

"We cannot afford to take a chance," Myrineyl said. "Heresy will only grow if permitted and its roots run deep into the soul. Our duty as servants of Lloth is to uproot it wherever we find it. If your sister is truly innocent of the charge, she has nothing to fear."

"You speak of a true inquisition," Haelra said. There was a note of concern in her voice, something not quite desperation. After all, Ghaundar reflected bitterly, she had her reputation to maintain. "That has broken many a drow."

"Only the weak, and they deserve to be crushed like the insects that they are. Surely your sister is made of sterner stuff. After all, she did get the better of Andzrel, whatever he accomplished," Myrineyl said. There was a trace of amusement in her voice when she spoke of the Weapons Master's suffering. There was no love lost between the two Baenre nobles. Clearly the priestess, and thus the others, had distanced themselves from his shame rather than seeking revenge on his behalf. How fortunate cruelty and amusement had won them over rather than sympathy for his plight. For the moment, at least. Andzrel was probably stewing away. "Nizana is not a noble, but she does have influence with Fey Branche. Should she suggest Baenre is not fulfilling their vows to the Spider Queen, it would reflect poorly on us."

"Is that what this is about?" Haelra said carefully. She could not afford to express incredulity in this particular situation. Not while she herself was under a magnifying glass. If Khaless was suspected, it would not be beyond the bounds of possibility that her sister might be accused of the same crime whether she was a priestess or not. She did have some fondness for the rogue but it was warring right now with her own sense of self-preservation. Blood was just blood, after all. It only meant something when it was useful.

"That is merely happenstance, a side benefit," Myrineyl said. She stopped just in front of the alcove Ghaundar and Vaene were hidden, then turned to regard her fellow priestess. Her eyes were narrow and her pursed lips seemed on the edge of spitting out an accusation. "You seem quite eager to avoid an investigation into your sister, Haelra."

"My reputation is at stake, Revered Myrineyl," the priestess said evenly. She was not powerful enough by a long shot to use solely the noble's name. She didn't want to back down completely, but neither could she ignore the challenge for fear of being seen as weak. It was a delicate little dance. "Please do not misunderstand me. I am not overly sympathetic towards my sister. She is undoubtedly disrespectful, irritating, and even at times perhaps irreverent. But her name is connected to mine."

"Then turn upon her to help with our investigation and prove your piety," the noble said, studying Haelra so intensely that she didn't notice the presence of others in the area. Ghaundar and Vaene both remained immobile, barely daring to breathe. Apparently their hiding place was more secure than they'd realized. But in a moment that could end and their discovery would not end well. Priestesses were not fond of being eavesdropped on and Vaene's gender would hardly spare her that particular punishment. She was more worried about Ghaundar being caught, however, and remained as quiet as possible.

"I..." Haelra hesitated, weighing mentally her loyalty and her desire for advancement. This was a golden opportunity not just to emerge unscathed, but to actually improve her standing by earning Lloth's favor if Khaless really was guilty of turning away from Her. But could she simply abandon the sibling who had helped her rise to her current situation and guarded her despite their disagreements? The same sister who had done her bidding to the letter for centuries? Was power really worth abandoning her familial loyalty? "I...you are right."

Myrineyl smiled. The expression seemed particularly cruel to Ghaundar from where he was watching in the darkness. "When your sister returns to Menzoberranzan—likely in some months if not a year, considering Andzrel's behavior—she will be put to the question. Now come. We are late for prayer."

It was only once the footsteps retreated down the hallway that Vaene uncovered her lover's mouth. "_Vith_," she muttered. The sorceress was not an intimate of Khaless's, but she very much appreciated the rogue's efforts to keep Ghaundar safe and happy. She knew they were close companions and Khaless actively protected him from the unwanted advances of priestesses, including her sister, despite the personal risk. Occasionally the sorceress felt a little jealous, but Vaene knew nothing would ever happen between them. She also knew when she owed someone a debt, and she certainly did to the younger Dryaalis. This was not good news.

Ghaundar nodded, his jaw tight with a silent fury at the fact that Haelra had just crumpled. If she had persisted, Myrineyl might have changed her plans. And what had happened with Andzrel? Had he finally gotten his way with Khaless? That would be...less than ideal. He couldn't really think of a word unpleasant enough. Though it sounded as though she'd gotten more than a fair shot in. Whatever was going on, his friend was out of the city now. "Not good," he agreed. "We have to get a warning to her. Tell her not to come back to Menzoberranzan. I know Khal. She can always start over in a new city."

"She is very resourceful. But how do you propose to even find her out in the wilds?" Vaene said. She wasn't quite certain how to actually accomplish that goal. "No one knows them better than Khaless. She has a map of everything in her head. Not to mention the fact that you might as well be grasping at shadows when it comes to following her."

"I would bet money she's close to the surface," Ghaundar said as he gave it some thought. He didn't want to see his friend having to reinvent her life, but he knew she could and would do it if it meant escaping a Church investigation that might do worse than kill her. As long as they could pass on the warning in time. It sounded like Myrineyl was waiting until she returned. If she never did, then the priestess of House Baenre would just have to live with it. Not that they probably wouldn't try to hunt her, but they lost their power in the other drow cities. "She knows no drow would follow her there."

"Because it's dangerous. There could be faeries or humans or all kinds of things," the sorceress snapped. She wasn't exactly eager to go there herself, but she knew that Ghaundar would take off and she wasn't letting him go into the wilderness alone where he might get killed. It would be perilous even with the two of them, but it would be better than a solitary drow. Ideally she could dissuade him, but right now she had her doubts. "Chasing her there would be insane. And that's presuming she even wants to be found. Besides, what if she's on the surface doing more scouting? Do you plan on going up there yourself just to find her? Where there are Goddess knows what monsters? Everything up there is thirsty for blood in a way not even drow can match."

"It's not that bad," he said even though he knew there was some credence to her point. He wasn't brave enough to chase Khaless up onto the surface, and it was not unlikely that his ally would not only be expecting pursuit but actively hiding from it. That would be an excellent place to conceal oneself even for just a few hours should someone come too close to discovery.

"If you really cared for me, you wouldn't put yourself so far into harm's way." It was her trump card, but even she could see that this time it wouldn't quite cut it. Not with the way he was looking at her. "Oh, _vith_ you."

Ghaundar resisted the urge to point out that she did, and frequently. He knew she was about to yield and pushed the last little inch. "Vaene..."

She frowned deeply as if trying to suggest that he was fortunate this time and would be only this time, but he knew she was a paper tiger. Vaene had a habit of giving in to practically anything he asked, which was extremely useful at times like this. "Fine. But you had better really make it up to me."

He did his best not to grin triumphantly. Just thinking of Khaless in danger like this put a damper on his mood. Who was he going to keep around to ward him from Haelra? Vaene had no blood ties to use just to keep her in check. "I always do," he said, gently releasing her. She lingered for a moment, but then stepped back and let the concealment fall away.

She gave him a hard look. "I will never forgive you if this goes sour."

Ghaundar grinned. "You always forgive me."

The sorceress did not look amused, but she didn't slap him no matter how tempted she seemed. Not with a genuine light of amusement in his eyes for the first time in days. "Just shut up and pack. I'll meet you at the gates in an hour."

* * *

Thalion looked up from sharpening his sword, almost dropping the whetstone. "More avengers?" he said in surprise. Caranion had just told him the news. Now the sun elf was pacing back and forth with the symbol of Corellon around his neck, his eyes focused ahead at some fixed point in space. "Do we really need them? There's been no sign of a drow in months." He carefully left out his encounters with Khaless. Not that he liked lying to Caranion, but some things it was better he not know. The high priest was understandably both worried about and furious at the drow after Naruvir. He had given no credence to what was written in that letter since he was unable to read it himself. Alassëa had translated from the cypher, but it was still just the word of one drow. Yes, there had been an attack. But not where she had implied it would be. So to him it was as useless as any scrap of paper already written upon.

"We should be doing more than just waiting for one. We need to hunt down any drow in the area and then collapse the tunnels leading to the surface. That and that alone will protect us. But to do that, we unfortunately will need more than just you, Thalion," Caranion said, a hint of regret in his tone. It was more at the idea that Thalion might believe he wasn't considered useful than at the thought of the drow or the passageways.

_Khaless_. The wood elf felt his hands tighten a little on his sword and its whetstone, but there was nothing he could think of to say that could gainsay Caranion without sounding suspicious. "Did the temple at Lótessë say who was coming in response to your summons?"

"A score of soldiers, accompanied by the avengers Héra Aranel and Naracion Tûrin," the priest said.

Thalion could have cursed aloud and very nearly did. He'd grown up with Héra and trained with Naracion. Both had a serious axe to grind with the drow and were simultaneously his friends as well as his brother and sister in arms. He knew very well that they'd lost parts of their family to drow surface raids. Introducing them to Khaless would not go over well. And, much like Alassëa had once pointed out, betrayal would drive the drowess straight back into Lloth's arms. She was only barely making her way out of that world and struggling with every step. Vengeful elves set loose on her by a...was he her friend?...would only make things worse. "I look forward to seeing them again," Thalion said. He wasn't lying, but that didn't mean he wanted to see them here and now. It had been so much easier before Khaless turned into a real person in his mind rather than a caricature of a female drow.

"Fortunate, because they just arrived. That was actually what I came here to tell you," Caranion said with a warm smile, clapping Thalion on the shoulder. "They'll be inside. Shall we?"

"Yes," the avenger said as if his stomach hadn't just suddenly knotted together in cold dread. "That would be best." He knew it came out a little wooden, but his problems had just become immediate. Or rather, Khaless's had. They weren't likely to kill him, but they would bleed her out in a second. He followed Caranion automatically up the steps of the village's main hall, hearing all too familiar voices approaching.

"Thalion!"

He became conscious of slender and yet deceptively strong arms around his neck, a face buried in his shoulder for just a moment before the red-headed female elf pulled back and beamed up at him. At one time she'd had a beautiful face, but half of it had once been given over to the flame. Both green eyes had survived in tact, but the flesh on that side of her face, neck, and shoulder were little more than scar tissue. Her smile was perhaps a bit twisted and uneven because of the tension it put the tortured half, but the expression was genuine and shone through with genuine delight. "I hadn't heard this was where you went. How are you? It's been so long."

"Almost a decade, Héra," he agreed ruefully, putting the main problem out of his mind. For now, he needed to be a good friend to these two. "I see you and Naracion have joined forces again. Very formidable."

"More formidable with your aid," the tall wood elf said. Naracion was a very average man, brown haired and brown eyed with a deep tan skin. He was more burly than Thalion, however, used to driving his great-sword through any enemy who tried to stop him. "We understand there is a drow problem in the area. Caranion explained to us that Naruvir was lost to them."

Thalion nodded even as the dread started to deepen. "Yes," he said. "We had a warning, but it came too late."

Héra pursed her lips. "A warning?" she said carefully, green eyes narrowed. That was not a common thing. She wasn't certain what to make of it. "Did a scout see them moving up from the Underdark or through the woods?"

"Not quite. Our source came from a follower of Eilistraee," he said evenly. Thalion knew they would hate it, particularly Héra. She didn't believe in tolerating the drow or their gods on any level. "They could tell us the area, but not which opening or which village. The attack came before we could raise our guard. The drow are swift."

"Elves?" Naracion asked. He saw Héra barely bite back the first incensed comment that came to her lips and pause to simmer with that ever-ready, barely-restrained rage. It was useful in combat where she could simply come unhinged at the enemy as a berserker, but it didn't lend itself well to disagreements in doctrine. "I know some of our kind take it upon themselves to redeem drow. A child will tempt the flames now and again for amusement."

"Alassëa Idhrenniel is our local priestess of Eilistraee. The message came through her," Thalion said. Alassëa's affiliations had long ago finally come out when she was trying to persuade Caranion of their drow's good character. He wasn't going to lie to his fellows if he could avoid it, though he knew he would have to at some point. Persuading them to accept Khaless was a nice thought, but as irrational as any fever dream and just as likely to come true.

Naracion put an arm around Héra's shoulders, less to comfort her and more to pin the slender elven woman to his side. "But the warning did not come from her," he stated evenly, covering his companion's mouth with his hand when she looked like she was about to explode into anger. "Hush, Héra. Let us hear this out. We need to know where we stand."

"No, it came from a woman named Khaless Dryaalis." Thalion couldn't quite bring himself to say 'a drow'. She wasn't just that any more. "Of House Baenre."

Héra ripped Naracion's hand away from her mouth with a startling speed. He was a large, powerful elf and she was such a slight thing, after all. But pure hatred was quite the motivating force. "Baenre!" she spat before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to calm herself. After a few seconds, when she was calm and collected, she said, "Why did she try and warn you?"

"Followers of Eilistraee do not, from what I understand, have much love for Lloth's faithful," Thalion said carefully remaining calm. If he twitched wrong, they would all be in an ugly fight. It was the peril of working with people all motivated by vengeance and possessed of combat abilities. Besides, if he tipped his hand, they would know that he knew precisely how their drow could be found. There were plenty of drow he would sic them on, but Khaless was not among those.

Naracion looked over at Caranion. "Would you excuse us?" he said, piloting both of his friends by the shoulder to a quiet little side room where they could have this argument away from the soldiers. He tuned out of the conversation for a few seconds, allowing it to heat up a little before he abruptly stepped in with, "That's enough, Héra. He knows exactly how you feel about drow already. We must accept the fact that this did, in fact, happen to the best of his knowledge as he describes it."

She glared at him for a moment and shrugged off his hand. "Fine," Héra said. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "We have business near Naruvir anyway. We know there's an entrance there that may be populated and needs to come down lest it be used again. There are still other villages nearby."

Naracion nodded. "We trust you can take care of holding down this fort, Thalion?"

The avenger almost sighed in relief. That would probably buy him a few weeks or so. They would have to delve quite deep to clear the area out, and then find a good place to collapse it, then do so safely and return. It sounded much easier to accomplish than it actually was. "If you can handle your task, I can certainly handle mine. Héra?"

She combed her fingers through her red hair. "We should not trust the faithful of Eilistraee. The Dark Maiden is still a drow goddess and nothing good comes of the drow."

Thalion thought of everything he had learned from and about Khaless. All the hours he'd spent sitting next to her under the moonlight, watching the little expressions across her face while her hand moved over the paper, came together in the back of his mind. He could even remember how their first meeting had gone and distinctly recalled being tapped on the cheek with an arrow. But what stood out the most was the way she looked at him. He wasn't certain that she always had, but there was something less than harsh in her eyes when her gaze turned towards him. "There are good drow, Héra."

"With all that they have done?" Héra's hand ran over the scarred side of her face almost thoughtfully, running over the ridges and oddly smooth parts that were the landscape of her features now. She touched that damaged ear briefly and circled around her cheekbone before descending to her chin on a slow route. "The only good drow," she said quietly, "is a dead drow."


	11. So Close

Ghaundar smiled softly in the darkness even though they were near the surface. He pulled Vaene a little closer and heard her murmur something in her sleep. The hand that she had covering his squeezed gently as if in approval. He knew he was a fortunate drow indeed to have someone who would, despite all their misgivings and other obligations, drop everything and follow him. He replayed the conversation from the night before in his mind as he stroked her hair.

_"Be my consort?" It was meant to sound as commanding as a female drow should always be, but it came out undeniably as a question. He looked up from where he'd been sitting by the fire, sharpening his sword. It was a serious thing to accept. It would mean giving up his other lovers. Haelra would still take her pound of flesh, but far less often and with much more risk. More than that, it meant binding himself to her and her alone._

_"You'll get bored of me," he said with a chuckle, standing up. But Vaene's face was serious, a hint of uncertainty visible in the way she worried at her lower lip with her teeth. _

_"I could never lose interest in you," she said, taking a tentative step towards him. He rose and met her halfway, pulling her into his arms. She rested her forehead against his. "It could just be us. I want you, Ghaundar, to be with for as long as we last. I want it to last. Say you'll be mine, please." _

_"Vaene, you're insane," he said, but he said it with a little smile. Haelra would never talk to him like this. Nor would any of his other lovers. "You know this means things like children, don't you?"_

_"As long as they're yours and mine, I would be content." Her eyes were bright in the light of their tiny glow of a fire that had been carefully shielded with stones so as to give off the least amount of light possible. "You know there is no one else I would ever ask for this. Madness or not."_

_He kissed her soundly, then pulled away. "I'm yours, for however long you want me."_

_Vaene laughed then and linked her arms around his neck. "I plan on keeping you," she said with a grin before letting her voice drop to a purr. "I think we should celebrate."_

_"You enjoy danger far too much," Ghaundar said, even as he let her unbuckle his breastplate. _

_"I'm not the only one," she teased quietly. _

After that little celebration, they'd both gotten dressed again and come to bed. And now here they were. It was quiet in the tunnels and peaceful. And then the feeling changed. He couldn't explain the sense of wrongness that crept over him but he knew that it meant there was danger in their immediate future. "Vaene, wake up," he said softly, stirring her a little.

Immediately, her eyes snapped open. The Underdark was a dangerous place and she was used to the need for alertness. "What?" she said, sitting up.

The question was answered for her when an arrow shot through their camp, narrowly missing Vaene's head. Ghaundar grabbed his sword and leaped up, the blade sliding free of its scabbard with a hiss. "Surface elves!" He knew the sorceress would have his back. She always did. And indeed, a scorching ball of flame went roaring down the tunnel into the ranks of the approaching elven patrol. The sorceress flattened herself against the tunnel wall to make herself less of a target and her warrior did the same, keeping his body between her and the enemy just because he could take more damage and keep functioning.

It was a fight of overwhelming odds, between the sheer number of surface elves and the leaders of the pack—a fearsome elf in armor wielding a great-sword like a toy and a berserker female with two wicked blades and a scarred face. Those two in particular seemed set upon making the ends of the drow swift and painful. Vaene knew they wouldn't win. It was a question of who would die first. Unless one of them ran and the other closed off the passage. Which she could do and he couldn't. "Ghaundar!" she shouted. "Go!"

He stumbled back under the assault of the great-sword, teeth gritted. "Not leaving," he managed to force out as he parried the heavier blade.

Vaene hurled an invisible wall of force at their enemies, scattering them back—including the two most dangerous ones. "If anything in you cares for me, go! This is an order!" she almost snarled. An arrow slammed into her thigh and she snapped it off so it wouldn't get in her way. Perhaps a different spell-caster might have been cowed, but she had the blood of dragons running in her veins. In battles that seemed hopeless, that ferocity rose to the surface.

Ghaundar didn't want to leave her, but he knew that this time there really would be no forgiveness if he didn't run. They would be dead, both of them. She was giving him a gift above all other gifts: life. "I..." He didn't know what to say, so he kissed her in the brief second they had before the battle was rejoined. Then he turned and ran as fast as he could down the tunnels. Khaless needed his warning and Menzoberranzan would want to know of an elvish incursion into the depths. He could still feel the phantom touch of her lips against his as the sounds of battle became echoes and then faded away, pain shooting through his being at the knowledge that he would probably never feel her again. It wasn't right.

Behind him in the thick of battle, Vaene was proving to be a raging nightmare for Héra and Naracion. She would be easy to kill, but only if they could close the distance. And every time they tried came crackling electricity or engulfing flame. The drowess was a master of the evocation school, a dedicated battle sorceress. Eventually she would exhaust herself and expend all her energy, but by that time the other drow would likely be beyond their reach. It was infuriating, particularly for Héra. Her temper did not suffer this kind of wound to her pride well. But the archers were their saving grace. Every arrow that pierced the wards the sorceress had placed around herself struck serious wounds. It was slowing the sorceress down as she bled.

Finally, there was enough space for Héra to reach the sorceress. She closed the distance at a run and brought her twin blades to bear, crippling an arm and a leg. She went to slit the drowess's throat, but Naracion's voice cut through the haze of red that surrounded her mind. "Stop, Héra. I want to know why they were here," the avenger said with authority.

Héra nodded reluctantly and lowered her blades. "What brought you here, drow?" she demanded, still furious. The fact that she couldn't kill this one yet.

"Give me your word that you will not pursue my companion and I will tell you whatever you want to know," Vaene said from her spot on the ground, trying to blot out the agony wracking her frame. She was a dead woman with her wounds, whether from blood loss or an inability to dodge their blades. She had to think of Ghaundar now. To never touch him again was a cruel punishment for failure, but if he lived it would not be endured for nothing. Besides, perhaps she would see him again someday in whatever came after death.

Naracion raised an eyebrow. He had expected the drow to plead for her own life. Had it not been a trick to allow word to get back to the others, he would have been impressed despite himself. "Very well. I give you my word," Naracion said. "I and my companions will not pursue your friend." It was not a promise he intended on honoring.

Vaene knew that they probably would chase Ghaundar anyway, but perhaps there was a sliver of a soul in these killers. She recognized the symbol of Shevarash on their armor and knew she would have no quarter from them. As they would likely not honor their promise, she saw little reason not to impede their progress, but first she would have to buy time by giving them answers, and truthfully lest they torture her at the sense of a lie. She was going to make certain that these elves would not go so deep as the Upperdark, "Then ask away."

"What brings you this close to the surface?" Naracion said, crouching down so that he was close to eye level with her. Pain was plain in the lines of her face but he felt no sympathy.

"We were searching for an ally to warn her of affairs in Menzoberranzan that would put her life in danger were she to return," Vaene said, making a show of holding her broken ribs. They didn't notice the fact that she was sketching arcane patterns against her side. She could feel the power growing. She was so close, closer even with every passing second. The stone beneath their feat hummed in response to her magic, but neither elf was familiar enough with the Night Beneath to even notice it. She would have her revenge, whether their deaths or simply foiling their plans. And the rest? Khaless and Ghaundar would make up the difference. Neither one of them would suffer her killers to live.

Héra and Naracion exchanged a look. "What ally?" Héra asked suspiciously. The drow showed no signs of deceit and that worried her.

"Khaless Dryaalis," she said. Then Vaene's expression became a wicked smile despite the fact that she was slowly dying. Her spell was complete, cast silently but with motion. The ground beneath her cracked audibly and fissures shot out from her body in spiderweb patterns, racing up the walls. Rock ground and grated before coming tumbling down. Héra threw herself out of the way of the first massive chunk of stone and then raced down the tunnel with Naracion hot on her heels. The drowess was now buried under far more than a ton of rock and the passage was sealed. There was no way they would be able to chase after the lone male drow who had escaped them.

"Spiteful bitch. Willing to die just for the chance to take us with her," Héra hissed out as they slowed their running when they reached a more stable area of tunnel up towards the entrance to the surface. That halfway sealed off this area, so at least part of their work was done for them.

"She knew she would have died anyway," Naracion said. He shrugged a little when they came to a complete stop, the rumbles of stone ceasing behind them. "Khaless Dryaalis. That is the name Thalion mentioned. Perhaps it is time we speak to him again about the drow visiting the surface so often. She may have more answers than it initially seemed. If we could capture her."

"We have no bait," Héra pointed out. She was hardly opposed to the idea, but the practicality of the matter...unless, of course, she looked at it from a different angle. "Or maybe we do. Thalion knows her. He'll know what she wants. He can help us lure her out."

"The drow would have to trust him, and that's impossible," Naracion said dismissively.

"Be careful throwing 'impossible' around like that. It might put an eye out," Héra said with confidence now. She squared her shoulders. "Thalion can help us. And if he won't, I can find another way to make this work." Her mind was at work now, turning over the problem. She didn't know this drow, but she knew Thalion. And generally speaking, she knew what he wanted. That drowess had something of value to him. If she could figure out what that was, she could find a way to make things work. Yes, it was manipulation of a fellow avenger, but it was in the service of Shevarash and would bring death to drow.

* * *

Khaless stood at the edge of the pond, watching the waterlilies beneath the moonlight. She could hear familiar footsteps coming up behind her through the woods. Without looking, she knew it was Thalion. And that familiarity set her already turbulent mind racing. She needed to do something with the breathless, burning feeling that lived in the center of her chest. It was more than lust, more than a desire for companionship. Somewhere along the line things had become very complicated. She knew what it was. That feeling that the elves expressed so freely and the one the drow knew to be madness. Maybe it was time to take that leap of faith and just spill everything out. Once she had done that, she co run away or panic or do whatever it was she was going to do. Even the drowess herself wasn't certain. It wouldn't go anywhere, after all. At least, that was what she told herself to try and crush down the hope that had been steadily growing. It was foolish and dangerous. She turned over her completed journal in her hands, the faint rustle of paper and the texture of leather under her fingers comforting.

"What are you thinking about?" Thalion asked, stopping beside her on the bank. He sat down on one of the boulders near the edge.

She took a seat next to him. "You know, in Menzoberranzan, some stories make elves out to be dangerous," Khaless said, marshaling her wits even as she gathered up her nerve. She smiled a little bit wryly and looked up at him. "It's true. You are dangerous. Just not in the way I thought."

Thalion was a little confused as he looked at her. "And how is that?" he said.

Khaless looked over at the quicksilver surface of the pond and the white lilies that floated on it. This was a lot harder than she thought it would be. "I..." She paused and took a deep breath before turning back to look at him. It was difficult to form the words and her head was almost spinning too fast for her to pick them out. And yet he had the gall to just sit there calmly and look at her. She was not supposed to have feelings or need to explain them. It was just supposed to be drawing someone into bed and letting desire take over. Her nerve failed. "It is not important."

Thalion shifted to face her. "It is," he said with certainty. Rarely did Khaless sound like she was going to open up to any degree and she certainly didn't do it if there was nothing important. "You can tell me. Whatever it is, it's alright. Trust me."

The drowess knew now what it was to drown on dry land. But she tried to soldier on ahead anyway. "There are certain things that shouldn't be in the real world. Things out of song and story that seem perfectly fine, if fantastical, there and utterly laughable in the real world. And you've taken some of them and given them power. You make them real. You have power."

He would have laughed at the difficulty she was having in explaining it if she hadn't seemed so distressed. Thalion wanted to comfort her, but he wasn't entirely certain if he could or even if it was wise to try. All the same, he reached out and tentatively touched her hand. She flinched, but didn't pull away from him. "You don't have to keep talking," he said carefully. He didn't want to earn her ire, but he wasn't certain where she was going to take this.

"I've come this far," Khaless said with a small, tense smile. She swept some of her white hair back behind her pointed ear, counseling herself that all she had to do was run. Maybe that would save her. "Thalion, you have power over me."

And that, he knew, was an admission that came painfully. He'd learned that no drow liked feeling out of control or as though their fate was in another's hands. But he wasn't certain he knew what that meant. He certainly didn't realize that this was the closest drow ever came to a declaration of love. Khaless tensed and stood to run. Thalion stood up himself, catching her by the elbow before she could take more than a step. "Khal—"

"Leave me before I do something we will both regret," Khaless said, doing her best to not look at him even though she let him turn her back to face him. Her rigid self control was gone and she was just holding onto threads primed to break. This was not the seduction she'd thought it would be. It was terrifying for her to be so exposed. Any drow would have used the opportunity to mock her for her weakness. But he was an elf and so he remained mercifully but also damningly quiet. The silence stung like a fresh wound exposed to air.

Thalion was gentle when he turned her around. "And what is that?" he asked. For just a moment, Khaless froze. Whatever she did now would change everything. But she took the leap of faith anyway and trusted him to catch her if she fell. She dropped the journal.

Khaless leaned in and kissed him, framing his face with dark and slender fingers. It was like no kiss that had come before it. The world evaporated and for a moment everything was perfect to her. She was where she wanted to be and the warmth in her chest was like a bonfire that drove back all of the darkness. It had been growing over the countless nights, in stolen glances and laughter, in roses and teases. It was a little flame of hope suddenly given life. She finally knew what it was like to feel that one emotion denied to her for all of her life before it. It was out of her control. She herself was out of her control. And she didn't care, because he was kissing her back.

If he had asked her to, she would have given up anything he wanted just to have this feeling for the rest of her days. She brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones, trying to commit the angles of his face to memory. She was the happiest madwoman on the face of the earth. His hands were wandering up and down her sides now, pulling her in closer. Her body pressed up against his and she made a soft sound of bliss into the kiss. For a moment they parted to breathe, but not far. "I love you," she whispered in elvish against his lips so quietly that it never made it to Thalion's ears. She knew this was a sign that her mind had completely deserted her. Saying it just made it somehow more real and that wasn't a good thing. But for a moment the punishment seemed a thousand miles away. It was possible. He felt something, he had to, or he wouldn't be touching her so gently. She was certain in that moment that everything would be fine. She was certain that she was safe.

Thalion was enraptured as he ran his fingers through her thick white hair. For this moment, she was his and he loved it. He had in his arms Khaless the beautiful, the artistic, the charming, the graceful.

Khaless the drow.

He jerked back abruptly, pulling away from her. "We can't do this," he said quietly, not quite meeting her gaze.

An unfamiliar ache started in her eyes. "We can. We just did." Khaless heard the desperation in her own voice, but even her pride couldn't compel her to crush it. She could see him preparing to take another step back and it felt like it was tearing some invisible part of her in two. All along she'd been careening towards disaster, but she'd been enjoying the ride so much she had forgotten to watch where it was going. She'd forgotten caution in favor of companionship. Abandoned wisdom as she chased the wonderful. "Please, Thalion. Please don't do this to me."

He had his vows. Thalion knew he could abandon them. He wanted to. But in doing so he would throw away his word and his honor. All the sacrifices he had made for Shevarash would be for nothing. So he said the only thing he could think of to say. "I can't."

Her eyes were burning now and a painful knot was choking her. How could two words hurt so badly? "Why?" she asked so softly he barely heard it. She knew what the answer would be. It was crushing her like a weight and ripping into her like claws. She had stripped away the armor and walked onto the dagger, just as she'd always known she would. The punishment for vulnerability was pain. She'd always known that. It was the law that governed the world of the drow. Never, ever put oneself at the mercy of another. And if one was stupid or insane or blind enough to, they deserved everything that came their way. This, she deserved this. She'd earned it over months and months of allowing her guard to fall. Months of allowing her true self to slowly emerge and fall so helplessly in love.

"You're a drow."

Khaless stood there, tongue-tied. Her whole world had gone from picture perfect to the absolute desolation of heartbreak in just a few seconds. If she thought she had known pain, she was so very wrong. Her vision blurred so badly she could barely see him, but something in her wouldn't let her cry. Not where someone would see her. She didn't see the regret in his eyes when he turned and started walking away. She had never felt so small in her entire life. Not even under the merciless eyes of Lloth. And worst of all, she knew there was nothing she could do or say because the thing keeping her away from what she needed more than air was herself. The sum of her being in one bitter word.

Drow.

The drowess was left standing alone, still watching the forest that Thalion had vanished into. She picked up the journal full of artwork and ripped it apart, throwing the pieces away as pages scattered along the shore of the pond. Fragments of binding glue and paper drifted down around her like the ashes of Naruvir. She wanted to destroy every memory that the book held for her. All the nights she'd spent just talking with him and all the easy smiles they'd shared. The trust she'd given him. The warmth at the center of her chest that was burning her from the inside out. The rogue could taste salt and felt droplets course down her cheeks from her blurred, aching eyes. So this was what it was like to be in love with someone who didn't love her back. Whoever had said it was better to have loved and lost than never loved at all was a liar. She wished in that moment that Eilistraee would either strike her dead or strip every feeling away until she was just numb. Because she didn't think she could stand this without losing her mind.

It was a long walk back to the entrance to the Underdark. The surface had lost its beauty in an instant. Now it was a hostile, alien place that held nothing for her. It couldn't, wouldn't go back to the way it was before. The familiarity of the gnarled oak she passed stung like salt in her wound. She could hear her breathing come ragged and almost jerkily as she struggled to draw in air. Khaless dropped, almost falling, down on the rocks and curled in on herself, pulling her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around them to hug herself tightly for comfort. Now the tears really came. They ran down her face and dripped off her chin, anything but beautiful. The little sobbing breaths were harsh and painful as they rocked her back and forth roughly. Why had she been born a drow and not an elf? Why had fate tempted her with something so wonderful and then stripped it away?

She would have to go home to Menzoberranzan. She would have to be alone, sitting in this feeling, knowing what was beyond her reach. "Help me," she prayed to the empty night air. She couldn't undo what had just happened no matter how much she wished she could have. Khaless had her answer to Ghaundar's question '_What do you have to lose?'_. The answer was: everything. There would be no more moonlit meetings, not when he'd said he couldn't. All the things that she had taken for granted with Thalion were now stripped away from her. She'd always thought she didn't deserve the affection and care of someone else, let alone love. Now she knew it was true.

The renegade fumbled for her holy symbol and pulled it out. She hid it here on the surface under a stone near the entrance where she would be able to find it every time. It was too dangerous to keep in the Underdark, particularly within the confines of her home city. The silver symbol of Eilistraee gleamed under the moonlight, her only comfort. She clenched her fist around it for a moment and then tensed to throw it away. But at the last second, she stopped and then gently set it back down on the stones. She wouldn't abandon that even if she turned her back on the surface and everyone on it.

Khaless stood up unsteadily. She walked into the darkness of the Underdark entrance as a shattered woman and the world moved on without her.


	12. A Song of Sorrows

It didn't take long for heartache to become anger for a drow. Khaless was no different, though hers was not dirrected at the man that had scorned her. It was focused inward. How had she been so stupid? She walked down the narrow passages of stone, her fingers trailing along one side as she moved. She wasn't putting any effort into stealth, not when she expected to be alone. When she was far enough away from the surface to be comfortable, she stopped and dropped her supplies, making camp quickly as only an expert could. But by the time she had a small fire lit and hidden, she heard the sound of jogging feet. She turned abruptly, hand on an arrow with her bow at the ready, but she halted immediately when she saw who it was. "Ghaundar?" The drowess slung her bow across her back again.

The male drow skidded to a halt in front of her and took a minute to regain his breath. "Vaene is gone and it's my fault." It was the first thing Ghaundar said to his friend, the full reality of what had happened hitting him now that the adrenaline had faded. The pain in his eyes was as fresh and powerful as her own.

Khaless stepped in and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. The male drow stiffened for a second, then relaxed. No one else he knew would ever offer him comfort like this, but he wasn't going to turn it away when it came from her. He knew that even if she would never admit it aloud, his fellow soldier did care about him. And she knew how much the loss of Vaene would wound him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, pushing her own anger and hurt away. There would be time to feel that later. She wasn't so selfish that she would continue to stew in that and abandon him.

His whole body started to tremble as she sat down with him. His fingers knotted together and he leaned forward with a bowed head. "I just left her to die. I ran. She told me to run and I ran. I should have stayed. Now she's gone."

Khaless could smell the blood on him, even dry. She saw wounds on his arms and shoulders. The drowess fished bandages and a salve out of her kit. "Who were you fighting?" she asked. It was clear he was still in shock, stunned from the suddenness of his loss.

"Elves, surface elves who came below the ground. They wore the symbol of Shevarash," Ghaundar said. He let her unbuckle his armor, sitting there numbly. He was veteran enough to recognize the sign of the elven god of vengeance. It was not the first time his path had crossed an avenger's. "They killed her. Their kind has no mercy. Khal, how...?"

She knew what he was asking. How do I go on? How do I undo what I have done? How do I bring her back? "I don't know," she said honestly, binding up his wounds. She didn't linger, going from one to the next with alacrity.

One of his hands caught hers in a crushing grip. "I want revenge," he said hoarsely.

Khaless stilled, thinking for a moment of Thalion. Would he kill her to defend his brothers or sisters in arms? Probably. But Ghaundar was in pain, no matter how well shoved to the back of his mind, and this was something that would at least bring him momentary peace. Besides, what did she care? Her friend had a right to this much and she was no friend to elves. "Then we'll claim it," she promised, giving the unmarred part of his shoulder a rough squeeze of something approaching reassurance. Vaene had been her ally in life, so Khaless felt she owed the sorceress in death. The heads of her killers would probably put her at rest.

He nodded and turned his eyes to the flames in silence, though it made them sting and water. He was quiet and still as a statue as Khaless tended to her bow and checked all of her arrows. Even the smell of cooking food did nothing to stir him. The rogue was trying to give him space to grieve in his numb way. But finally, she disturbed him with a question. "What brought you here, so close to the surface?"

"Myrineyl Baenre thinks you are a heretic and was determined to put you to the question and find out," Ghaundar said dully. His gaze didn't waver from the fire as the hurt and anger churned inside of him. It was coalescing into a hatred for elves beyond what he already possessed. "We came to warn you not to return to Menzoberranzan."

Khaless bit the inside of her cheek, cursing Myrineyl silently. "Then I'll need to acquire supplies away from the city if we plan on fighting them. That'll be expensive and difficult, though worth the cost. You will have to return to Menzoberranzan alone to equip yourself and perhaps acquire a few others with a similar axe to grind." She knew that she didn't need to tell Ghaundar what kind of risk they were running. This vendetta would likely get them both killed, though they could easily take quite a few elves out with them. "Who was responsible?"

"There were two. A female with a scarred face and a male who wielded a great-sword. Both were dark of hair," Ghaundar said.

The rogue knew that 'dark of hair' just meant darker than white. It hardly narrowed it down, but the scarred face helped as did the knowledge that they were both avengers of Shevarash. "And the others?"

"Run of the mill soldiers. Why does it matter? Let us kill them all and be done with it," he said with a growl. She could see his temper rising when he looked over at her. Khaless held up both hands.

"We will do our best," she said in an effort to soothe him. It seemed to placate him a little, at least. "I'll wake you for a watch."

Ghaundar nodded dully and laid down. The rogue had rightly guessed that he wouldn't be hungry. She herself wasn't feeling particularly famished stared down at her warmed up rations and tried not to remember the way she'd kissed Thalion. If she was going to make war on the avengers of Shevarash, he would hate her quickly enough if he didn't already. The idea added its own tremor of pain to what she had burning in her chest already. She had a definite feeling that the Dark Maiden was not going to approve of her behavior. Unlike Naruvir, she would be doing this of her own will. But this was deserved. She looked over at Ghaundar, who was laying with his back to her and the tiny fire made of an enchanted stone designed to burst into flame and burn without fuel at the command word. A similar word would extinguish it. He needed this, she told herself. And Vaene deserved to have her death avenged.

A part of her knew that this venture was doomed to end poorly, possibly to the extent of killing them. But what was she going to do? Say no to the only person in her life who remained faithful and constant? Anyone else would turn on her in a heartbeat, but not him. He wasn't even blaming her for Vaene's death, at least not yet, since they'd come so close to the surface and into danger searching for her.

She picked up a small, loose piece of stone from the cavern floor and turned the rough rock over in her fingers. Sometimes she would keep smooth pebbles from where the underground rivers flowed just so she would have something to brush over with her thumb when she was lost in thought. But now her thoughts turned to places where they couldn't be soothed in the slightest. She'd tried to steel herself so hard against rejection, she'd known better, but that moment had turned hope into a blaze. It'd made her think that she couldn't be wrong. Then, as quickly as things seemed perfect, the ground was jerked out from under her. And she'd done it all to herself.

The worst part was that she still felt that tug of warmth when she thought of Thalion. She still wanted and wished and thought of him. The memories of times they'd shared pulled and pushed at her thoughts, rearranging her as they pleased. He really did have power over her. Even though it hurt so badly, she was still drawn in like a moth to flame. Just like the moth, she was destined to burn herself up for it. She just didn't know how. When Ghaundar left for Menzoberranzan, she would have to seek out Alassëa for some kind of guidance. Rûdhon might have given better advice, but she wasn't ready to admit to him that she had harbored even a single thought towards the avenger.

She was turning into a masochist, she was sure of it. Why couldn't she just run like a normal drow would? Maybe, just maybe, she would return to the City of Spiders with her friend instead of trying to go to the surface again. Instead of pretending that nothing had happened, because it hurt too much to hide. She needed the anger that was simmering under the surface of her thoughts. She would need it to keep herself whole through the ordeal of an inquisition. And if she died, she died. It was that simple. It was a consequence she could accept.

* * *

"What did you do?" Alassëa demanded, cornering Thalion in the small home that had been given to him in gratitude for protecting the village. Before he could protest his ignorance, she threw a mess of tattered and water-stained papers onto the table. They were the drawings, he realized, torn from the journal and destroyed. He picked out the painting of the rose, its stem blurred and weeping ink in dark blue-black rivulets down the page. It made his heart twist painfully, so he set it down. Never had he imagined that she would have ever destroyed something so precious to her. The journal had been more than a book. It was prayers, hopes, and dreams all mixed together. But now here it was, utterly ruined and he had a good idea of who had made it that way.

"I..." he started to say before hesitating. There weren't words enough to express his regret. He could still see Khaless's face perfectly and the way it had looked when he backed away from her. But it was true. They couldn't. It was dangerous, insane, and absolutely forbidden. It didn't really surprise him that Alassëa had decided to jump down his throat over what he'd done, however. It was almost reassuring to know that Khaless had someone so willing to fight on her behalf despite the distance between them. "I hurt her."

"You had her trust. Whatever you did, you destroyed that," Alassëa snapped. She could tell he was pained as well just by looking at him. "Are you finally satisfied? Your god of vengeance has had his pound of flesh from her."

"That wasn't what this was about," Thalion said hotly, standing up. He was incensed despite his own feeling of guilt. If Alassëa was going to rake him over the coals for hurting Khaless, she could at least know something of the truth. "It's safer this way. For both of us. We can't be...it doesn't matter."

The priestess of Eilistraee stared at him for a moment, the pieces falling into place swiftly. For an elf, Alassëa was young, but she wasn't stupid. "Gods, you broke her heart, didn't you?" she said softly. Whatever she had expected of him, and she didn't know that herself, this was infinitely worse. She hadn't even imagined Khaless had learned to love anyone yet, but now she could see it. All those nights that Thalion had vanished, he must have been with her. And the poor drow was just sinking deeper and deeper under the weight of everything she felt. Alassëa knew what heartbreak felt like, and even for her it was agonizing. How much worse would it be for someone who had spent so long with their feelings shut out, only to finally have someone break down the barriers and let everything out? "Thalion, how could you? Did you even try for a moment?"

"She had to know it would end this way," he said, avoiding Alassëa's eyes. It wasn't something he was proud of. If he could undo it, he would. But now Khaless was lost to him, away in the darkness. He doubted she would return to the surface again, not unless it was to pray. Maybe she would still do that. He could hope. Maybe he would even have the chance to catch sight of her. He missed her already and she'd only been gone for half a day. "She's a drow."

"That's cold, even for an avenger," she said. The priestess's voice had grown sharp and distinctly cool. She was not pleased with what he'd done any more than he was. And Thalion knew it was true. That was cold. The whole thing had been, particularly since for a moment he'd given her hope just in time to crush it.

_Please, Thalion. Please don't do this to me._ That had been all she asked of him. Just to not break her heart and all the trust that went with it. He hadn't even been able to do that. "Alassëa, I know," he said quietly. "I wish it was different more than anything."

"If you loved her back, you would make this right," Alassëa said quietly, turning and opening the door the rest of the way. She let herself out, brushing past Héra with only a nod of acknowledgment. It didn't even occur to her that the female avenger might have heard something.

Héra had heard every word. This was exactly the opportunity she and Naracion needed to lure the elusive drow out. It would mean hurting Thalion, but that could be healed in time. It was likely he didn't even love her the way he thought he did. But there was also a little twinge of jealousy that ran through her. She pushed it away. It was more important to focus on curtailing the spread of this one's venom through the ranks of Shevarash's faithful. If the drowess had managed to charm and seduce one, she could do it again. That was unacceptable. It was just a matter of making sure that Thalion escaped the punishment. She owed him that much.

But all that could wait. First she had to convince him to stop trying to be noble. It wasn't a position that she'd ever imagined herself in, certainly. "So," she said warmly, stepping through the door. "I didn't think you were Alassëa's type. Or does your famed charm overpower everything else, including good sense?"

Thalion sighed. "Funny," he said even though he wasn't in the mood for humor or even seeing Héra at all. He sat down at the table and rested his head in his hands. "I have enough heartache, thank you. The last thing I need is Alassëa in the mix too."

"So it is a love problem," Héra said. She sat down across the table from him and picked up the picture of waterlilies under the moonlight. She recognized the water-distorted calligraphy beneath as the drow tongue, though she couldn't read it. She just knew enough to identify it and bring it to Naracion, who could. "This is beautiful. Did your mystery lover draw it?"

"She's not my lover," Thalion said, reaching out. He tugged the picture from between her fingers, careful not to tear the page. It was still not quite completely dry.

"But you wish she was," the female elf said quietly, her green eyes sympathetic. She reached out and covered his hand with her own. "Thalion, what's wrong? You know you can talk to me."

He nodded. "I do wish she was," he said. And wasn't that the truth. Those kisses had been sweeter than honey and more intoxicating than wine, no matter how brief they were. If he could have had a lifetime of those, he would have taken it gladly. It was strange how something so slow growing could suddenly flower. But he'd nipped it in the bud. "But we can't be together. No one would approve. She's not an elf."

"Since when do you care what people think?" Héra said, giving his hand a soft squeeze. It seemed to reassure him a little, but it didn't really help with the pain. Thalion chewed at the inside of his cheek and shrugged his shoulders a little bit as if to say that even he didn't know. "Did you tell her no because of that? I can't think of another reason that you'd be so upset."

"Yes," he admitted quietly. It was good to have a sympathetic ear, even if he couldn't tell Héra the details. Would Khaless have the same comfort? He doubted it among the drow. Where would she even go? Back to Menzoberranzan and the iron claws of Lloth? He hoped not. He didn't want to think that he'd crushed everything good in her heart. It was painful now, he told himself, but it was the wise course of action.

"Thalion," she said with a gentle disappointment. "You have to fix things."

"But I can't—"

"Can't or won't?" Héra said, cutting him off. Her expression was soft enough that it didn't sting. "Listen to yourself, Thalion. You've always been the brave one and you're running away from love, of all things? You deserve to be happy. Maybe people won't approve, but isn't it worth it anyway? The life of an avenger is so often cold and empty. People don't understand the toll it takes to do what we do. If you've found someone who knows who you are and loves you anyway, that's worth any risk."

"You really think so?" he said uncertainly.

"Of course I do," Héra said. She gave him a soft smile. "Just make things right."

"I...don't know how," Thalion admitted. "I don't think there's anything I can do to fix this any more. I broke it so badly. If you had seen her face..."

"Now is not the time for that," she said. "Just apologize. Earn her trust back. If she loves you, she'll forgive you." _Or if she wants something from you_, the female avenger said in the privacy of her own thoughts. She was under no illusion that the drowess felt anything even approaching love for her comrade.

"If she even returns," he said, shaking his head a little. Khaless had her pride. She wouldn't just walk into his open arms after everything that had happened.

"Trust me, she will." Héra didn't imagine the female drow would abandon her designs so easily, even if her plan hadn't worked the way she intended. At any other time, she would have lauded Thalion's good judgment even if she didn't approve of how close he'd gotten. But this time, she needed him to draw her enemy out. This was a problem they could be rid of once and for all.


	13. Begin Again

Alassëa tried to still the trembling of her hands by clenching them into fists. It wasn't fear that she was feeling as she faced down Naracion. Héra was watching from the side of the room with crossed arms and lips curving upwards at the corners into a dry smile. "Leave Khaless alone," she said without preamble. She didn't know what the avengers were planning, but she was certain of their intended victim. Neither had been able to leave the hints of a surface drow be. It was hard for Alassëa to shout and swing like other people might. At her heart she was a gentle creature. "She's a good woman, a follower of Eilistraee. This...whatever it is, it's wrong."

"Let me explain something to you, priestess," Naracion said genially. He stepped into Alassëa's space in a way that made the great-sword across his back seem even more menacing. "The avengers of Shevarash are not good, like you've come to expect from Corellon's folk. We are not concerned with what is right and what is wrong. Frankly, we don't care. Vengeance is our only concern, our only priority."

"She's done nothing to you," Alassëa said. She didn't back away in fear. In fact, the emotion didn't even register. She was too busy trying to protect her friend.

"Naruvir," he said. The burly elf stepped around Alassëa. "Let's go, Héra."

The priestess had no answer for that. She knew the duty of Shevarash's faithful was to avenge those who could not seek their own revenge as well as pursuing their personal vendetta. The dead certainly couldn't claim their own pound of flesh. She turned to watch the pair go. Thalion came through the opposite door, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. "You look upset," he noted, looking up at her.

"Maybe," she said before pursing her lips. The moon elf looked over at him, voice cooling slightly. "Was there something you wanted, Thalion?"

"I want to make things right with Khaless," he said. "But I can't alone. You have to help me."

Alassëa glanced at the door of the antechamber of Corellon's temple that the two avengers had vanished through. "I'm not sure that's a good idea right now, Thalion," she said. There was too much danger in the air with those two actively looking for Khaless. On the other hand, the longer he left it, the worse it would probably get. Drow could nurse grudges like no other creature that she'd met. "It's too dangerous."

"I don't care. Alassëa, please help me. You're her friend. She'll listen to you," the avenger pleaded quietly. He didn't want anyone to overhear their conversation. "I can look after myself. And so can Khaless."

Sometimes the priestess wondered about that. Khaless was an excellent scout and a brilliant rogue, but as soon as it came to the matter of feelings, she seemed utterly lost. It was like giving a small child a map and compass, then expecting them to find their way out of the Spine of the World. Presuming Thalion had good intentions—which she wanted to believe but she was having trouble with right now—he still had the potential to do much more harm than good. He'd already demonstrated he had second thoughts before. "We haven't talked since Naruvir, Thalion. She's still hiding from us. Honestly, it's a miracle she said two words to you. And besides, I don't know her well enough to have the secret to mending her broken heart."

"I can tell you where in the woods to wait for her, what entrance to the Underdark she's using. Just talk to her for me," Thalion said.

She looked into those regretful hazel eyes and sighed. "I promise nothing."

That was how she ended up standing in the middle of the woods at night with her dark, braided hair draped over one shoulder. It was the end of a rite anyway, but she was waiting long after the others had left. It was a warm night, so there was no chill to bite through her silk robe. It was, however, a little unnerving to be so close to the cave mouth. Alassëa was no fool and understood the danger of a surface raid. She knew the odds of one were quite low, but that didn't stop a knot of anxiety from forming in her stomach. A twig snapped behind her and she jumped before whipping around, heart hammering in her chest at breathtaking speed.

There was Khaless, holding half a twig in each hand. She'd clearly walked right up behind her friend in her quiet way and then snapped the twig with her fingers just to scare the elf. "Hello, Alassëa," she said with a smile, the amusement in her expression masking hurt and anger quite well. It wasn't the moon elf's fault, of course, but right now elves in general left a bitter taste in her mouth. Not only had Thalion spurned her, but she also had to watch Ghaundar suffer. The male drow had headed back to Menzoberranzan without her to gather what they needed. "You should be more careful. I walked right by you. Anything could have happened to you."

"Don't do that! Anyway, other people don't move like you," the elf said, a hand over her heart to calm it down. "Nothing happened."

"You should be away from here. The avengers of Shevarash have stirred up trouble among the drow," Khaless said. Her lips flattened into a thin line of anger, a leak through her normally composed expression. "Myself included."

"Thalion is sorry, more than he or even I can say," Alassëa said. She wasn't sure just how much trouble had been made with the drow, but if Khaless was warning her, it was likely to be significant. Surface raid significant.

"This isn't about Thalion. I don't want to hurt him. The culprits are an elven woman with a scarred face and an elven man wielding a great-sword," Khaless said. She ignored the twinge of hope that trembled to life at the idea that Thalion at least thought of the rejection as a mistake. He had still hurt her and she would not forgive him at the mere mention of his contrition. She had a damaged heart to protect.

"Héra and Naracion. I know them," the cleric said. "I've been doing my best to try and keep them away from you, but there's something going on that I don't know about aimed right at you. But that's not why I came to talk to you."

"No, you came to speak on his behalf," the rogue said, sitting down on a fallen log. She turned her face up towards the priestess of Eilistraee. Those familiar dark features were utterly unreadable. "Speak away."

"What he did was wrong and he would change it if he could, Khal. He loves you," Alassëa said. She reached into her bag and drew out a leather-bound book. The pages were clearly water-damaged and stained with run ink. The elf held it out to her drow friend. "It's not the same as it was before, but it's repaired. And it's not the only thing that can be fixed."

Khaless took the book and flipped open to a random page. The picture of Thalion looked up at her, the edges of the paper crinkled from where it had been wet and dried. It was surprisingly intact. She brushed her fingertips over the dark ink lines. She hated the fact that she'd been able to draw in such detail. Now it left her with a painfully life-like reminder of a quickly closing window of opportunity that she could barely bear to think about. "Alassëa, why are you telling me this?"

"I don't want you to be alone. Not when you could be happy. You deserve to have love in your life, whether it's sane or not," the priestess said, sitting down beside her on the log. Khaless almost seemed oblivious, her eyes still fixed on the image in her hands.

"Do you know how much I stand to lose?" she said softly. It was an excuse and she knew it, a fabrication to allow her to guard her heart again. She'd made the mistake of letting those walls fall far too low.

"More than you stand to lose already?" Alassëa countered. She knew Khaless well enough to persuade her, at least normally. This would be simultaneously a very difficult task and a very trivial one. After all, the drowess wanted to believe it. She just wasn't allowing herself to. The elf knew she would have to pick her words very carefully now. "You know better than anyone the risks you run being a follower of Eilistraee in the Underdark. This will just be one more secret. Look at everything you stand to gain. Are you really ready to throw any chance of happiness away?"

"We'll be caught," Khaless said. And it was true, just as it was true that she was waiting to die in the Underdark. And with what Ghaundar had told her, that was a death fast approaching. They might not have known for certain that she was an apostate. That wouldn't stop them from using all kinds of unpleasant methods to get a confession out of her. And this was no different. Thalion's fellow avengers would eventually catch her and bring about an end just as terrible. They were not known, she had learned, for being chivalrous or merciful. It upset the followers of the good elven gods more than the drow, who simply expected that kind of treatment. Not that they were exactly evil either. It was an unpleasant grey area that Khaless didn't understand. When she thought of morality, it was in black and white. Her own grey came when all she think of was survival, her old way of thinking.

"Just like you'll be caught for being a heretic. It makes the time that you're free that much more important," Alassëa said. She was drawing now from all the things that Rûdhon had taught her and the wisdom that came with his great age. "We all forge the chains of consequence that bind us. But some are worth it. That's how we know that we've made the right choice."

"It will be hard. Dangerous." The excuse was weaker this time. The rogue found herself starting to give in and that was not a good thing. But she couldn't quite escape from the snare.

"Everything worthwhile is hard. Your whole life is dangerous," Alassëa said. She stood up. "You need to decide if you're going to let fear govern your will and define you or if you're going to chase this dream with the courage I know you have. And sooner rather than later." She turned and started walking away, back towards the village. It was a long walk and looked to be a thoughtful one. Thalion owed her, even if she would never call in the favor on principle.

She didn't make it very far before hearing, "Wait." Khaless's passage was barely audible, as if the long grass itself refused to rustle as she moved through it. "Alassëa, tell me the truth. Do you really think it's possible?"

"That he can change your mind once you decide? No. If it can be mended? Yes." The elf turned and gently took her friend's hands in her own. For once, the drowess didn't look uncomfortable with the unfamiliar touch of reassurance. "Khaless, just trust me. This time, it will be different. I told him to meet you by the gnarled oak tonight. He'll be waiting now that the moon is up."

"Tonight?" Khaless said, eyes widening. "I'm not ready!"

"This isn't something that anyone is ever ready for," Alassëa said, releasing Khaless's hands to give her a gentle push in the correct direction. "Sometimes you just have to close your eyes and jump."

Khaless took a deep breath and nodded. She headed off towards the oak with a nervous energy lending speed to her steps. She honestly wasn't certain she could do this. She'd had so much trouble the first time already, but now? Now she wasn't certain she would be able to get even a squeak out. But she walked the narrow footpath that way, remembering the night she'd spent running with Thalion hot on her heels. Or the times that she'd met him beneath the oak before and put her back against the rough trunk, laughing at the elf's stories. It made something in her chest tighten painfully. Never had she realized that what the people of the surface called heartache was actually a thing. But there were no more tears. She'd cried her piece and it wouldn't happen again. She was stronger than that.

Thalion was standing there under the moonlight with his gaze fixed on the stars. He must have heard her approaching, because he looked over in her direction as she started walking over. "Hey," he said softly, expression sorrowful.

"_Vendui_," she greeted a little stiffly. She came to a stop under the boughs of the tree as the leaves stirred in a slight breeze. Alassëa was right, at least if her perception didn't deceive her. There was remorse there.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. More than sorry," the elf said as if he was afraid that if he spoke too loudly she would run away. "I understand if you want to leave or not hear this."

"I'm not ready to forgive you," Khaless said. It almost made him flinch, but instead he stood and took it anyway. The drowess wasn't trying to be malicious, just truthful. Unfortunately, that came out as a sort of brutal honesty. "And I don't know if I'll ever be ready to forget."

"I understand," he said, avoiding her eyes. He went to step back, but she stepped in close enough that they were less than a foot apart.

"I don't think you do," she said quietly, crimson eyes seeking out his despite his desire not to look. It forced him to see the pain that he'd left. "I didn't know it was possible to feel so small and so hurt. It eats me up inside and I hate it because I can't hate you. Do you know what that's like? I just have to sit alone in my pain."

"You don't have to be alone," he said, reaching out for her. She let him take her hand because she didn't think she had the strength to fight the feelings of warmth away to make room for anger. She was too tired of that struggle. "I'm sorry I didn't catch you when you made your leap of faith. But I'm here to help pick you up."

"That's what Alassëa tells me," she said. He still had power over her. He had to, because the drowess found herself truly wanting to believe it too. But was she ready to try again? The good in her was a fragile thing. What if this time she broke it? She wasn't certain she could put it back together again with all the times she'd already had to fumble it back into something approaching wholeness. Like after Naruvir, where she'd shattered it completely. She was running out of second chances. Already she felt like a failure more often than not when she looked at the most important parts of her life. Maybe she could somehow walk out of this one in tact, but that meant just that: walking out. A bitter part of her suggested that she should do just that, but not without leading him on as he'd done to her.

"I'm sorry," he said before leaning in and giving her a gentle kiss. It was the softest one she'd ever received and it was something so completely different from anything she would ever be able to find in Menzoberranzan or maybe all of the Underdark. Just like that, her resistance crumbled. When he pulled back, she moved in closer and pressed her lips against his, fingers curling to hook beneath the straps that held on his pauldrons.

Even if everything fell apart, she would at least have this. Lips against her own and arms around her waist. She couldn't feel his hands brushing up and down her back because of her armor, but the sensation of closeness was still very much there. Again he was kissing her back, and with more fervor the longer it stretched on. She drew back when she had to breathe only to find she could barely do that. There was a knot in her throat of expectation, and not the good kind. She was waiting for him to leave again. It was an unconscious thought that rose swiftly to the surface of his mind. It felt so certain that he was going to go again. And this time she would be able to handle it, because she was really prepared and hardened to the idea. It was a very drow thing, to take what she could get and abandon the rest without looking back.

But instead of walking away, Thalion held her close and just took a deep breath. "I love you," he said quietly. He was terrified someone might overhear, but she needed to hear it and they were this close anyway.

Khaless was stunned. "I..." she started to say before biting off the words.

"I don't expect you to say it back, Khal," he said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But all the same, I want you to know."

The knot of pain in the center of her chest came undone in a flood of warmth. He didn't just care for her—he also understood. She couldn't say it yet even if she did feel it, and he knew. "Thank you," she murmured, smiling despite everything that had happened. They couldn't have everything, but there was this place in time for them.

Thalion took one of her hands and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. "Stay and watch the sunrise with me," he said before sitting down at the base of the tree. He gently pulled her down too, settling the drowess onto his lap. They were facing east and would have a perfect view. Khaless thought about struggling since he was the one leading them, but it was too pleasant to expend the effort. She could settle for being less than perfectly in control if he was still doing what she wanted without direction.

"It will burn my eyes," she warned him even as she settled in contently and leaned back into his embrace. "And I'll have to hurry back to the cave or be caught by elves. It's dangerous."

"I won't let it hurt you," he promised. Thalion heard her make a soft noise of disbelief, but she didn't pull away. In fact, she seemed quite comfortable. "I'll accompany you back to the cave. It may not get rid of any potential elves, but I'll be able to see in the bright light and warn you to run."

"How...chivalrous of you," Khaless said, eyes alight with amusement now. It made her smile glowingly genuine and Thalion was the sole recipient of it. He fell a little bit more in love at just that.

"She knows a ten-pence word," he teased. It felt so effortless to be with her this way. Running had been exactly the wrong move, but thanks to the gods of love, he had had his chance to make amends.

The drowess pursed her lips, then swatted at him playfully. "Do not mock me," she said with all the sternness she could muster. It almost sounded properly threatening, but the elf could tell the difference.

He caught that hand and leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. It was so good to be able to kiss her now. The reality was much better than his imagination had been able to convey. Particularly when he felt her lips part against his as the kiss deepened. It was like an enchantment spell descending on him, something made of heat and desire that left him burning for more. He wished neither of them was in armor at the moment. Thalion didn't want to rush anything, but he wasn't particularly good at resisting Khaless's charms either. When the drowess let him pull back, he took a deep breath and then blinked a little. "What were we talking about?"

"How to kill a few hours," Khaless said with a smile. She could tell exactly where his mind had gone. As much as she wanted to indulge him, she wasn't certain she was safe. But she could handle this for a while. At least, as long as he didn't break. And that didn't even take into consideration surface norms. They were so adorably puritanical about it, even Alassëa and Rûdhon. Lovers were not a subject the pair asked her about anymore, not after her first, rather detailed, answer. "We have some time until the sun rises."

"Khal—" Thalion was a little uncertain about how he would make a request to slow down not sound like rejection to a drow. He'd learned in his reading and from Alassëa that female drow did not like hearing the word "no".

"I know," the rogue said. She smiled at him. "This is just fine." And it really was. A new feeling had arisen as her old pains ebbed away: contentment. It was the first time in her life Khaless had ever really been content.

She only stayed a little while after false dawn, until the barest sliver of sun was above the horizon. The whole sky was streaked in gold against a slowly lightening blue background with hints of orange and pink tinting the clouds and falling across their skin. Khaless tried to look at it, and the gradual change in the light helped, but it still hurt her eyes. By the time they reached the cave entrance, she had been walking with her eyes closed and her hand in Thalion's as she trusted him to guide her along.

Once they were in the cave, she opened her eyes and removed her hood. "I have to go now. Ghaundar should be back," she said before hesitating, "And if he doesn't return, I will have to go looking for him. Thank you for tonight, Thalion." She didn't know how to say that she didn't know if there would be another one, so she just kissed him and tried to pretend that there was no doubt that she'd be back again.

He smiled at her. "I'll see you again soon," he said with such conviction that she almost believed it. It was cruel to leave, but she had no choice. At least he knew that she really did care about him and that this wasn't her choice. "Be safe."


	14. A Song of Snares

Khaless walked through the dark, spider-web filled hidden passageways hidden within and below House Baenre's complex. Every step was silent against the ground and she moved at a crouch that kept her profile as small as possible. Ghaundar hadn't returned and so she had come back to Menzoberranzan to find him. The city itself was trivial enough to move through, at least for her. She could vanish into a crowd in a blink of an eye and she'd bypassed the gate guards by using the old siege tunnel to enter the city. In the narrow alleys and back routes she had moved like a shadow or a wisp of smoke. And now here she was, creeping through these passages left long forgotten by all save a few. Voices filtered in but they were so distorted by the echoes of the stone that they were hardly helpful. She could recognize some of the speakers, though.

She slid a fake stone panel out of the way and emerged behind a statue in an alcove right across from Ghaundar's room. The rogue looked both ways, checking for a patrol. Nothing. She felt uneasy all the same. This was too easy. Someone should have stopped her by now and dragged her off to the Temple or Arach-Tinilith. What web had she just strayed into? Khaless hurried forward and opened the door. As soon as the portal had swung open, she wished she had never touched the knob.

"Khaless, so good of you to join us," Myrineyl said smoothly. Ghaundar was next to her in chains, looking as stoic as possible despite his restraints and the guards with him. There were a lot of them, more than enough to kill her. Two reached out to grab her and the rogue sprang back like a frightened cat. She spun on her heel and started running, but not fast enough that she didn't hear, "Fetch her. Alive."

She made it around a few corners before slamming into a tall male drow and bouncing back off his armored chest. She fell to the floor and immediately struggled to get to her feet. A boot hit her in the chin and snapped her head back. It was not a full force kick, but it was enough to ring her bell badly and send her right over until she was lying on the ground. "Hello, Khaless," a voice thick with honey said as she tried to stir amidst the blurry world.

Andzrel. It was Andzrel Baenre. She realized it from just the sound of the voice that still made her want to shift uncomfortably. She felt a person grab her by each arm and pull her backwards, her heels dragging on the ground as they locked her arms around behind her back. It jarred her shoulders, but there was nothing she could do. Andzrel followed along, smiling a little when they walked her into Ghaundar's quarters. Someone quickly and efficiently stripped her of her weapons while she was still reeling. Then her friend said her name, called her a fool for following. Her vision had cleared by that point and the only ill effects were a splitting headache. Her struggles were not terribly effective either even once they were no longer dragging her—her nails scratched across cold armor and her bites couldn't break through a gauntlet. Her blows were robbed of their power by how they were restraining her. "I came to get you!" she snapped.

"You shouldn't have, Khal," Haelra said from the side of the room.

"You?" the rogue said. The tone wavered between accusatory and betrayed. She expected Myrineyl to come after her after the little run in with Nizana. She expected Andzrel to hold a grudge. Not that she was happy about either of those things, but they were natural. This she hadn't anticipated, not with how certain Haelra always seemed of her devotion. Her sister was clearly not here to dissuade them.

"I need the power, sister. It's nothing personal," the priestess said brusquely even as she avoided her younger sister's eyes. Haelra did feel some pang of conscience even if she wasn't willing to put herself on the line for the rogue.

"That's what this is about?" Khaless shouted.

"No," Myrineyl said, stepping in. The rogue kept struggling away, but the grips of the guards only grew tighter and tighter until they were almost bruising her flesh even despite her armor. "This is about faith. And you will give us the truth or learn of the uniquely cruel arts perfected by the Church."

"I am faithful to Lloth," Khaless said, glaring into Myrineyl's eyes. It was not submissive and might earn her punishment, but what did she have to lose? She'd known this day was coming a long time.

"Then why is it that I don't believe you?" she said before nodding to Andzrel. The Weapons Master hauled back and hit her in the stomach so hard it doubled her over and dropped her to her knees. The guards didn't bother keeping her on her feet as long as she couldn't run. One let go of a small coil of rope that stirred to life with Haelra's magic, winding its way around her legs and knotting so tightly that she wouldn't be able to wiggle free.

Khaless gasped for air, but it seemed just beyond her reach. When she finally regained herself, she looked over at Ghaundar. The veteran warrior was trying to look stoic, but she could see the fear in him easily. Her friend was completely terrified of the priestesses and the whole situation. And worse yet, there was nowhere for him to run. At least he wasn't the one accused, Khaless thought with some element of relief. But it lasted only a moment.

"Let's try one more time," Myrineyl said, smiling pleasantly. "Tell me what goddess now holds your allegiance."

They either knew it was Eilistraee or they were at least assuming because of her familiarity with the surface. "Lloth," the rogue said, voice rough from pain.

Myrineyl grabbed her by the face and jerked her head up to look into the priestess's eyes again from her kneeling position on the ground. "Khaless, just confess," the cleric purred, fingernails digging into flesh in a way that suggested she was actually enjoying the resistance. "We don't want this to become unpleasant, do we?" It sounded quite reasonable, but it was clear that she expected to be refused.

And Khaless was not one to disappoint. "There is nothing to confess," Khaless said forcefully.

"Well, as endearing as your defiance is, I think this means there will be some unpleasantness. There are thousands of ways to torture people, you know. Each approach is determined by the victim's weakness. And the weakness of Khaless Dryaalis is her pride. Her vanity. You like to believe that you're powerful and in control, don't you? You like to believe you can protect the things that are yours. And when you're wrong, it just eats away at you until you can't bear it. And that's when you'll break," Myrineyl said, tightening her grip for a moment before releasing the rogue. She leaned down. "Confess, or I will have the unspeakable done to your little friend and his flayed body hung twitching in the city streets for everyone to see. And every one of those watching people will know the name of the woman responsible for what happened: yours. There are fates worse than death. Yours will be having to live with the knowledge of what you caused. He wouldn't be here if you hadn't been weak. And mark me, I will make you watch every second. When you can't bear to watch, you'll have to listen."

Khaless felt a sort of numbness descending on her. She had always imagined being subjected to torture and forcing her own silence until her body finally broke completely in death. She had not made allowances for the inventiveness of Lloth's devoted. There was no such escape here. Was survival really worth that? Ghaundar having to bear all of her pain and more for her before a slow and agonizing death. Myrineyl would drag it out over days or maybe weeks, while never touching a hair on Khaless's head and the rogue knew it now.

"I strayed," she said just as Myrineyl turned away from her and started approaching Ghaundar. Everyone in the room was startled except Khaless. No one expected her to actually surrender so quickly. Even her friend had expected that she would throw him to the fire. But she hadn't even given them a chance to get a single shot in at the male. "I left Lloth for the graces of Eilistraee."

Myrineyl was the first to recover from the shock. "Name your fellow heretics. Who introduced you to the ways of Eilistraee?" she demanded.

"An apparition of a woman. I do not know her name," Khaless said.

"And who taught you?"

The drowess tensed a little bit and hesitated. It was no drow who had really instructed her in the proper rites and prayers of the Dark Maiden and while that meant they were safe from Myrineyl at least for the time being, she still struggled to admit it. But as soon as she stilled and didn't answer immediately, the priestess advanced on Ghaundar with a spell crackling in one hand. "Don't!" the rogue said quickly. "Alassëa and Rûdhon. Neither of them are in Menzoberranzan or even within your power."

"Your answer is...unsatisfactory," Myrineyl said calmly. She grabbed Ghaundar and wounds split open across his body. They were not very deep, but it was enough to make him cry out in pain. "Do not presume to tell me the limits of my power. Now, where may they be found?"

"The surface," Khaless said, unable to quite look at Ghaundar. Already she could feel the guilt welling up. If she hadn't come back, he would be fine. But she could hate herself for all this later. Right now she needed to protect Ghaundar. "I met them beneath the ground more than thirty years ago, but they are not from the Night Beneath."

"Goddess, Khal, elves?" Haelra said. It was entirely possible and even probable that the confession was a fabricated one, but it had a certain ring of truth to it too. Ghaundar might have agreed with the priestess's assessment, but he was past the point of speech in his fear.

"I will hear the rest from you later. And if you refuse to answer, Ghaundar will be safely in custody where it's quite trivial for me to reach him," Myrineyl said. She looked over at Andzrel. "When I'm finished, she's all yours. Just remember to leave something for the Spider Queen's altar."

The Weapons Master grinned. "Of course, cousin."

* * *

"Thalion? What are you doing here?" Héra asked, sitting up in bed. In the darkness of her room, she could see her brother in arms approaching. He looked troubled when he sat down on the edge of the cot she'd had set up in a spare room of the priests' chambers of the temple.

"I needed to talk to someone," he said. Thalion took a deep breath. "Héra, I'm...I want..." He pulled in another deep breath. "I want to leave the order. Leave all of this behind."

The shock hit her like a bolt of lightning. "What?" she asked, reeling a little from that revelation. Thalion had been every bit as devout as she was. For him to leave Shevarash's service would be unthinkable. "We have vows, Thalion. We can't simply walk away when things are difficult. That includes you."

"It's not because the task is difficult, Héra. How long have I lived for death? How long have you? I want to be alive again and I have someone who makes me feel that way. You were even the one who convinced me it was worth trying."

Héra cursed roundly in the privacy of her own head. Of course it was the drow. The bitch had her claws sunk into Thalion much deeper than the female avenger had given her credit for. But that meant if she wanted her trap to work, she couldn't just tell him not to do it. "A serious decision, one that shouldn't be made swiftly or lightly," she said. A thought occurred to her. "Did you speak with Alassëa about this?" Both of them had been absent these past couple of nights and there was a chance that Thalion had been at rites of Eilistraee. It wouldn't surprise her if he'd gone just to protect the priestess. The two were becoming fast friends as they bonded over their mutual friendship with the drow.

"I did," Thalion admitted. He'd stood out near the oak with Alassëa and told her about what had happened with Khaless, particularly the fact that they were something approaching together now. The priestess was the only one he could really talk to about it with Rûdhon gone so frequently. The ancient elf was moving through the whole area above and below ground in the region looking for drow and elves alike who had found the Dark Lady's path. He would usher new brothers or sisters into the fold and Alassëa would tend them once they were sent to join the others.

"And?" Héra prompted. Naracion was not going to like this, she knew that. It would take persuading to get her partner to drop it and let Thalion start to walk away. He wouldn't make it far. No one could ever really abandon Shevarash. The faith slipped under the skin, behind the eyes.

"She wouldn't really give me an answer one way or the other," the male avenger said. He studied his hands now, rubbing his palms together slowly and thoughtfully. "Alassëa said I had to decide what was more important, love or duty. Once I could figure that out, she said, I'd know what the right thing is."

"And the answer is this romance?" his childhood friend asked. "Thalion, you do this duty out of love. For your brother and his family. For my family. For everyone who has ever felt the pain of loss. They deserve to know the satisfaction that retribution brings."

"And what satisfaction is that?" the wood elf said. "Héra, are you happy? Are you at peace? I know I haven't been. It's like trying to put out fire with fire. More and more and more is burned. For the first time in a long time I feel whole. When her arms are around me, I feel at peace. I want that for the rest of my life."

Héra's ringing alarm bells had reached a fever pitch. She was wrong. Not to say that Thalion couldn't be used as a trap, but she had been mistaken thinking she could salvage him from this undamaged. This was more than him being besotted. The drow really did have a powerful hold over him. And that made her far more dangerous to everyone than anyone had wanted to admit. It was time to bring Naracion in on what she had planned. "Why can't you have both?" she said. "Thalion, we all give things up to pursue vengeance. But maybe you can find a balance. Anyone could."

"It feels wrong," Thalion said with a shake of his head. He stood up. "Thank you for talking to me."

She watched him go with anxious eyes, tugging at a stray thread from the sheet for a long moment after he vanished through the doorway before rolling out of bed. On bare feet, she padded into Naracion's room. "We need to talk," she said quickly when he sat up.

"Héra—"

"I have a way to catch the drow," she said, holding up a hand to forestall further commentary. "But it's gotten complicated. Thalion is in love with her."

Naracion did an admirable impression of a fish. "I...what?" he managed finally.

"Shock wastes time. He's in love with the drow. Now get over it," Héra said impatiently. "I had planned on using Thalion to lead us right to her, once she lets her guard fall around him. Apparently that's happened. We just need to know the exact time and place for a good attack now. But if he's as thoroughly in love as he sounds, he'll do something stupid and try to intervene. I don't want to have to kill him."

"Would that be such a bad thing if he's turned his back this far?" Naracion said, standing up and striding over to where his great-sword was laid across the table.

"Settle down," Héra warned. "He's our friend still. If we can kill the drow and bring him back to the fold—"

"Héra, he's an avenger just like us. What do we do? Forgiveness is not the hallmark of Shevarashms faithful. He will turn upon us with a fury like nothing you have seen," Naracion said bluntly. "It is a good plan, yes, but if we want to preserve Thalion, it will require a scapegoat. We'll use Caranion and Corellon's faithful. My first choice would be that priestess of Eilistraee, but she can't be convinced."

"Perhaps framed, though. Anything to drive him away from this foolish infatuation with the drow and their gods," the female elf said thoughtfully. She bit her lower lip for a moment, fingers rubbing thoughtfully across the burn-scarred flesh that made up her cheek. "Is this our plan, then? Use Corellon to attack this Dryaalis woman and implicate Eilistraee's faithful if possible?"

"Unscrupulous, yes, but likely quite effective. Thalion may still be too dangerous, but we can handle that in time," Naracion said. He wasn't terribly bent out of shape at the thought of having to kill their comrade. He liked Thalion, but betrayal was betrayal whether intended or not. Besides, he had killed so many people that life itself had no real intrinsic value for him any more. He was just as jaded, if not more so, than much of his quarry.

Héra felt that wavering of uncertainty, however. She wanted to keep Thalion safe and alive, she really did. If it came down to it and he turned against them, she knew where her loyalties lay. But she didn't have to like it and if they could avoid that situation, she meant to. The drow had to die, however. That was her line in the sand that she would not back across. She had no qualms about being the one to end that life either.


End file.
